Maelstrom
by Right-2-Left
Summary: When the waters rise up, threatening to engulf you, it helps if you have gills. Used as a fill for the YJAnon Meme. Kaldur was born a girl, all other characters stay the same. AU
1. Sha'lain'a 1

**Story Rating: M  
****Story Warnings: violence, possible triggers with emotional/psychological/mental/physical/sexual abuse (domestic and other), AU, coarse language, prostitution, [see Chapter Warning(s)]  
****Story Note(s): Originally began as a story for myself, now is being used as a fill on the YJAnon Meme.**

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): physical/verbal bullying, murder, mentions of prostitution, domestic abuse, coarse language**_

_**Edit: 04/02/13**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Sha'lain'a**

"_My will shall shape the future. Whether I fail or succeed shall be no man's doing but my own. I am the force; I can clear any obstacle before me or I can be lost in the maze. My choice; my responsibility; win or lose, only I hold the key to my destiny."_

Elaine Maxwell

* * *

**1**

**Miami, Florida : January 3, 1994 – 22:47 EDT**

"David."

Nothing.

"David. David listen to me_,_" I grab the 20-year-old's shoulder, using my superior strength to stop him in his tracks. He turns and, as expected, glares at me. I glare right back and tighten my grip on his shoulder, "Just because you do not agree with what some of the people have done does not mean that the entire group is bad and discriminatory."

I learned that from the few people who weren't suspicious in Atlantis.

"You're actually defending them?" David's expression turns incredulous and he shoves my hand off his shoulder. "You're defending your parents even though they hated you from the moment you were born just because of the colour of your _hair_?"

My eyes widen instantly then just as quickly narrow, "I am not defending my parents. I am not even defending _yours_."

His eyes narrow at the mention of his parents. The ones who could never deal with his autism. The ones who left him to his own devices, which, ultimately, led to his trip to Hell.

"I am defending the people who have not and will not hurt us because of things we cannot control," I finish, wary as I instinctively watch for the familiar movement signalling an incoming hit.

"You're an idiot then," he snaps, his hands clenching but not moving from his sides. "There isn't anyone where I come from who hasn't looked at me like I was some sort of freak and there's no one from Atlantis who hasn't looked at _you_ as if you're some sort of freak."

I flinch at the reminder and the clear fact that he believed he knew everything about my time in Atlantis. He knew bits and pieces. He didn't know everything. No one did.

I flinch as his hands rest on my shoulder and squeeze in what I'm certain is meant to be a reassuring gesture but is the exact opposite, "Are you with me Sha'lain'a?"

That's the name he helped me pick out, in stark contrast to my birth-name. 'Unbreakable.' That's what it means. I figure I should probably exemplify my chosen name. I stiffen and step away from him, hissing, "You want to take over this country. You want to take over Atlantis. You want to do all of that to punish everyone. That is the only reason. Tell me I'm wrong, David. I dare you."

He doesn't take the bait.

"It'll be better," he promises. The promise rings hollow. I know that what he promises can't come from doing the same thing the people who hurt us did. Doing the same thing and expecting different results is…well it seems idiotic. It doesn't make any sense.

Besides, what he's planning will result in a war. I'm not about to risk entering a war. Not now. I probably would have before but now…No. I'm determined to give my – our – baby an actual childhood. Not a warzone. I can't give my baby – _our baby, our baby, our baby _– a proper childhood in the middle of a warzone. I won't be a perfect matim, a perfect mother. I don't have any examples of perfect matims to draw from but I figure that giving birth in a warzone or a warzone-to-be would not be a good place to start.

Then there are the innocent people to consider. I know, I'm lucky to even know this, I know that just because the majority of a population think you're less than dirt doesn't mean that everyone in that population is evil. I had friends in Atlantis. I don't know where they are now. It's too dangerous for us to contact one another. But I had friends. There were people who didn't think that I was evil just because I was, apparently, cursed. There were people who hugged me without expecting anything in return. I know that there are surface-dwellers who try to help people. The disenfranchised. The discriminated. The abused. I know that there are people who try to help, even if they may not understand all of the issues. At least they're _trying_. If David gets what he wants then he'll kill those people too. He likes killing. He won't ever stop and if I let this continue…these murders – he killed two people tonight when it was supposed to be a simple B&E – if I let them continue then would I really be any different than what patera and matim told me I was?

Cursed.

Demon.

Evil Incarnate.

Just as my birth-name says I am. Kor'dia'ax.

"No, David," I'm shaking my head and acting on instinct now. "I cannot let you do this."

Confusion flashes across his face, quickly followed by anger, "What the hell are you talking about Sha'lain'a?"

"The killing has to stop."

He glances back at the bloody bodies of the once-living, "Fuck, Sha'la, they were in our way!"

I can feel my courage gathering as my fingers instinctively begin to reach for the water – the ocean, "You did not have to kill them, David."

"Yeah, I did."

"No. You did not. You never had to kill anyone. Stop it."

An odd look crosses his face and he tilts his head, studying me, "What the hell's gotten into you, Sha'la?" He frowns, "You're acting like one of Them."

I punch him.

His nose breaks under my fist, my strength courtesy of my Atlantean physiology. He swears violently, clutching his nose.

"Do not call me one of Them," I hiss, the adrenaline from the punch still rushing through my veins. "_They_ are murderers, abusers, jackass psychopathic assholes with arrogantly ignorant and bigoted beliefs that cannot seem to comprehend that they _might be wrong_."

Water rises from the ocean and wraps around David, restraining him, freezing him to the dock next to the corpses of his victims. He's still swearing at me.

"What you are proposing will cause a war. I can't let you do that, David. Not now."

His eyes go buggy and a garbled exclamation erupts from his mouth. I only catch the word 'pregnant' when I realize that my hand is over my stomach and, well, I've been a bit off for a while and David's smart. He probably connected the dots.

I don't confirm or deny the accusation that I'm pregnant. I just stand, resolute. In moments I'm in the water dodging where our lookouts will be watching and I'm swimming until I can't swim any longer. Then, I hole myself up in an underwater cave, return to my just-kicked-out-of-my-house state when I was 10, and cry. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now. No home. No family. No money. Pregnant.

I wind up crying myself into a nightmare-ridden sleep.

* * *

**Vancouver, British Columbia : August 3, 1994 – 02:03 PDT**

When you live underwater you have to have at least moderately enhanced senses to navigate your way down there. The ocean floor is very dark and water doesn't work as air does in relation to sound waves. The people who know Atlanteans are aware of this. They're aware of our enhanced hearing, our enhanced sight, our sensitivity to certain smells etcetera. That's why, unlike most humans, I have less trepidations with living where I do, with an infant.

A month ago I gave birth to a girl. I cried more than she did. Partly from relief, partly from utter terror, partly from more fear, partly from pain etcetera. Naturally, I gave birth underwater, in the North Pacific Ocean. I hadn't returned to Atlantis since I had left the South Atlantic when I was 14 courtesy of those soldiers – and the small stint along North America's East Coast when I left David and wound up swimming all the way to Quebec. I was still terrified that, even with my new name and changed appearance and location, they would find me, hunt me down and hurt me baby. I was still carrying the Curse of Kordax, after all. But I couldn't stomach the thought of giving birth on the surface. It was just too _strange_. It wasn't _right._ My instincts demanded that I give birth underwater, so I did. By myself.

Most terrifying experience of my entire life.

I had been living in the waters around Vancouver Island, occasionally drying off and making my way on land to get some different food, some money, some information on raising a child when you're an 18-year-old impure Atlantean cursed by Kordax and on the run from Atlantean and various surface-world law enforcement – there's very little information out there for a girl in my predicament, unsurprisingly. But when I gave birth and found myself staring at a tiny baby girl who suddenly relied on me for more than merely feeding I realized that I did not have what I needed to care for her. I needed some sort of support system or I'd go insane. I needed a stable-ish home. I needed someplace I could get a steady income, or at least steal from relatively easily. I needed a community of some sort.

Thus, my move into what I lived in now. I was squatting in an abandoned, decrepit building which was probably not the best place for a newborn but it was the best I could grab while having gills, being an 18-year-old girl with a baby and having more Atlantean coins than Canadian. My obvious biracial heritage probably played a part as well, unfortunately. However, with my magic and physiology the building is better than other options. It's one of our best options, in fact. I can make a decrepit building more structurally sound with my magic and ensure that no assholes wind up busting into our place and fucking with me and my daughter.

Despite the protective spells and wards, I can't sleep tonight. I keep on waking up, terrified.

While Mai – a kind woman who collected scraps of paper and then folded them together to create various creatures that needed a second chance and then used her magic to bring them to life – looked after my daughter I was doing my usual run through the garbages and prepping to sell the best stuff off I ran into. I ran into, not unusually, Joa.

There are a few types of street people. The ones I like to be around are the ones who have the most interesting stories. The ones who aren't mean for no good reason, the ones who know about the other worlds, about magic, about spirits, about karma and such and, to put it simply, are willing to see things that most people aren't willing to see. Like, for example, the pixies that came out of one of my buyer's telephones one afternoon and tore his store apart just for kicks. He called the cops to report a break-in. He didn't see the pixies, or the signs of the pixies. I did. So did Joa.

Joa likes to say that she has better eyesight than I do. That she sees things even I don't see. I go with it. So when she said that she saw a darkness, an ooze, following me and my daughter throughout the day I didn't disregard it like most people would. I believe her when she says she can See things. So I'm rightfully concerned when she mentions the darkness, the ooze that keeps on creeping up on my daughter and I.

Clearly, I'm still hanging onto her words. Either my mind is playing tricks on me because of what Joa said or my gut is telling me that there is something _wrong_.

I go with my gut to be safe.

My daughter is still sleeping – amazingly – in the plastic bin I had found, cleaned, patched and filled with water. I learned very quickly that she sleeps much better in water than not. Her instincts, I suppose, telling her that water is better, just like my instincts told me when I gave birth to her.

There are two other tubs of water in the room. One is by the door. The other is by the window. Her bed is in the closet – just in case I need to hide her quickly – and my bed is beside the closet. I have my clothes hanging in the corner of the closet that isn't right above her bed and her clothes are on the shelf above. There's a pile of blankets – not that we need them, we're built for cold, but I was paranoid – in the corner while another pile makes up my bed. Our food is mainly in the fridge and on the counter and shelves in the corner opposite our beds and by the window there is a collection of collapsible and retractable weapons. A collapsible sword. A retractable staff. A small handgun. Etcetera. My money is always on me, always, and I always try and keep this place as clean as possible.

I know every inch of our room and I know every sound that every millimetre makes.

Instinctively, I turn from my daughter's bed and through the darkness – it gets dark at the bottom of the ocean – I can see and sense the door opening. That was what had woken me up. The wards being triggered by whoever was trying to get in our room.

I move immediately, shutting the closet door, snapping to my feet and snapping up a length of water that wraps around the person's wrist on the doorknob and sends them stumbling into the room right into my grip. I grab them and twist their arms behind their back immediately.

He glares at me.

My eyes widen.

"You!" I hiss, ensuring that my voice is low. I force him to his knees and snap, still quietly, "What the fuck are you doing here David? I would have thought that freezing you to the dock gave the message 'I never want to see you again' pretty clearly."

"Hello to you too, Sha'lain'a," he responds, oddly calm. "I just thought that a father should get the chance to see his daughter."

I nearly break his right wrist. He gasps in pain and nearly falls on his face. I hold him up and twist him around, slamming him against the wall and pinning him there with my forearm against his throat.

I don't hate him. I can't. He's half the reason for my baby girl.

"How do you know about her?" I hiss.

He splutters and I lessen the pressure between my forearm and his throat. He explains, "I've been talking to your friends. They don't seem to care about your gills or her gills. Nice people."

I raise an eyebrow sharply, "Since when have you called anyone 'nice'? What do you want David?"

I have no idea where my brashness is coming from. Where my demanding attitude is from. Maybe it just came, a sort of package-deal, along with motherhood?

"I want to see my daughter."

"No."

His eyes flick to the window, "They are nice people aren't they? They don't hate you, not Joa, not Mai, not Brian." He was a skinshifter, could trade in his human skin for the skin of a black bear. I'd only seen him shift once but I knew there were others out there. Joa, Mai and Brian were all sweethearts. It was obvious that David was threatening them and if I knew David I knew that the instant he got out of prison, or off that dock, whatever, that he would have rallied all the people he got on his side and they were now watching _my _people, waiting for whatever order David was going to give them, an order which was decided on when _I_ decided what I was going to do.

I can't do that to them. The only one of them who'd have the means to defend himself against David effectively was Brian and even then he'd need to shift skins first.

She's crying now too.

I shoot him a look that ensures he knows exactly what I think of him and what he's doing before I step back from him and stride to the closet. I pull her out of the water and into my arms, murmuring softly in Atlantean. I don't know any Atlantean lullabies but I've been trying to translate some English ones into Atlantean. It isn't working very well.

David steps forward, his arms out. I hesitate but one look at him reminds me of Brian and Mai and Joa. Carefully, I hand her to him.

"What's her name?" he asks, his expression unchanging as he cradles her in his arms, silent. She stopped crying the instant I picked her up. She isn't fussy at all. She knows exactly what she wants and, usually, I know as well.

"Kalladura'ham," I answer.

"No surname?" he questions, staring at me.

"No," I respond. "Surnames generally aren't used in Atlantis."

If he didn't know before then he knows now that I don't consider him a part of her life beyond conception.

I watch him warily, taking in her tiny gills, the little webbing between her fingers and toes, the complexion darker than mine but lighter than his, the green eyes that are mine and the nose that will slowly turn into his, and the soft snatches of blonde hair brushing across her scalp. I almost cried, again, when I found out that she had the Curse of Kordax as well. I've since decided that it doesn't matter. I'll just teach her that it isn't a bad thing. The Curse means nothing. She can either ignore or kick the ass of anyone who says otherwise.

She doesn't reach out for him. She's not a baby who seeks out cuddling. She's perfectly comfortable being by herself, entertained by whatever is around her. It's a relief, usually, having a baby who isn't particularly fussy, who isn't constantly wailing for my attention. At the same time though, it's puzzling. All I know about babies are the ones that are wailing for attention and won't stop. I was terrified in the beginning that something was wrong with her but I've since realized that there isn't anything wrong with her, she's just content, adaptable.

I suppose that means that I'm doing something right.

David hands her back to me. I adjust her position in my arms and she lies comfortably against my chest and arms. I stare at David, "There, you had your chance. Now go and don't ever try and get near me or my daughter again."

His eyes flash and I know that I've said the wrong thing.

"I'll go," he says. "But I deserve to be a part of her life. I deserve to see her grow up." He takes a step forward. I turn slightly so that I'm between him and Kalladura'ham. He shakes his head, "What if she's like me, huh? You have no idea how to deal with that."

"I'll figure it out," I snap. Kalladura'ham's tensing. She knows that something's wrong. She knows that I'm angry and scared. I force myself to relax. I don't want her crying now.

"I'm half the reason she even _exists_. I'll give you my contact information and you will send me, every year, every – every single one of her birthdays you'll send me a photograph and a letter. A letter about my daughter."

"You're killing people, David, I can't…"

"I'll kill more, Sha'la. I swear I will."

"Fine!"

Kalladura'ham whimpers. I turn to her quickly, my gaze softening, and run my webbed fingers over her scalp, murmuring softly in Atlantean. I stroke the edge of her ear and with that and the murmurings she slowly quiets.

I sigh and turn back to David, "Fine. I'll do it."

"I'll be in touch," he promises then strides towards the door. He pauses at the door and adds, "By the way, don't call me David anymore. I'm going by Black Manta now."

He leaves. I'm shaking.

The door swings open a second later and Calvin walks in. He was with David – Black Manta – when I left. A year younger than me. It was pointless to say that his home life wasn't the best. None of our home lives were the best. He was a human and I never found out the reason why but he was loyal to David, like everyone else.

Maybe, once upon a time, David was a nice man. But I suppose that there's only so much a person can take before all the meanness of other people rubs off on them and they have to scream and punch and find a way out of it all. Even if it means they'll hurt a few people along the way. Maybe that's all they know. Meanness and feeling pain and handing pain out and crying and wondering _whywhywhywhy_.

Calvin was always a sweetheart. A nice kid who, I think, never really understood what was going on or how he got into it. The B&E, the vandalism, the murders, the manipulation, the loyalty to a man who had enough meanness from others that he learned the only way to survive was to become just as mean, if not worse.

Calvin stops and stares at me, two metres away. He plunges his hand into his jacket and I catch a glimpse of a gun before he pulls out a thick yellow envelope from his inside jacket pocket and puts it on the ground. I just stare at him. When he straightens he looks at Kalladura'ham and smiles, "Cute kid."

I don't say a word.

He looks at me, too old for his 17 years, all sad eyes and unbreakable jaw, and gestures vaguely to the envelope, "Might help with Princess there."

He walks out.

I don't move for ten minutes. When I do I put Kalladura'ham back in the tub and carefully raise a water-shield around her. Joa knows she's here. So do Mai and Brian. They'll check.

I crouch in front of the envelope and slowly, carefully, rip it open. I freeze upon the sight of what's inside. Money. So much money. Canadian bills. American bills. Atlantean coins.

Oh Poseidon…what…was this Calvin's idea or David's – Black Manta's?

It's blood money, I know that. They stole it or got it for doing shitty stuff. I can't use it but, at the same time, I need it. I don't want to be a thief and a prostitute for the rest of my life to support my baby girl.

I can feel a lump in my throat so I sit back, let the water-shield fall, and lean against the wall, the money still resting innocently in the envelope. Before I know what's happening, I'm sobbing. Sobbing like I was when my baby girl was born.

* * *

**Kleftiko, Milos : October 29, 1999 – 18:47 EET**

_::: Matim… ::: _a yawn interrupts Kalladura'ham's telepathic communication. She rubs at her eyes with small webbed fists and winces. Scrunching her eyelids she grimaces, freezing in her movements.

_::: Rini. ::: Angelfish. _I murmur through the same telepathic connection, borne of our apparent 'Curse of Kordax'. I rub a comforting hand up the small of my daughter's back, kneading her small muscles meditatively. Kalladura'ham exhales and leans forward, resting her head on her knees, causing her blonde braids to bob on either side of her head.

Soft blue light spreads from my hands as I run my hands softly down Kalladura'ham's left arm, touching the tattoos winding around it. The brand new markings are necessary. Kalladura'ham's control over her magic is less than optimal and through no fault of her own. The amount of strain the sorcery put on her body is staggering and with the sorcery gift that I have it's nearly inevitable that she held the same potential. Suffice to say, it's a lot of potential. The problem is that her patera is a human and therefore biologically not as suited to using sorcery as an Atlantean is. The first time Kalladura'ham used sorcery was when she was 2 and attempting to mimic one of my spells and move water up and out of the tap to clean up a spill.

She electrocuted herself instead. Apparently, my daughter inherited my affinity for electrical spells as well.

The problem lies in the fact that while most Atlanteans can channel their sorcery through their innate biological channels – which appear on our skin as glowing, winding markings – Kalladura'ham cannot. She was not born with those channels. As a result, the sorcery, or, the electricity as it was when she was 2, darted off its predetermined path and shot through her body like thousands of pinballs, assaulting every part of her it could reach.

There are still small patches of scar tissue on the bottom of her feet and palms thanks to her adventures with magic that her body cannot handle.

I had, in desperation, grabbed every piece of information I could on half-Atlanteans, half-Humans and Atlantean sorcery and quickly determined that without some sort of channel within or upon her body to help her sorcery stay on track and not rip her apart from the inside-out, Kalladura'ham would simply have to never perform sorcery. Which is ridiculous. Sorcery is just as much a part of her as her physiology is. It's like breathing. It's a part of her. Not something she can reject and simply _not do_.

Thus, the 26 month long process of applying the tattoos across Kalladura'ham's back and arms. I needed to create the channels that most Atlanteans are born with and place them upon my baby girl. The tattoos are those artificial channels.

The process, unfortunately, is as painful as it sounds. I have to essentially carve away layers of Kalladura'ham's skin in the place where the channels would go and then replace the skin with magical prosthetics that will immediately gather the energy from Kalladura'ham's sorcery and channel it along her back, arms and hands to be released, ideally, along the channels.

It's taken two months to place the channels along her back. Plus another four months for Kalladura'ham to heal completely. Four months to place the channels along her right arm. Six to heal. Four months to place the channels along her left arm. Another six to heal. To make it even more agonizing I will have to go back and strengthen the older channels to keep them viable. It'll become an annual thing.

At least now, finally, the wrappings from my baby's left wrist and hand are off and I'm applying the final recovery spells to the markings and the skin around them.

The glow from my magic fades away and with big pale green eyes my baby turns and stares at me, silent. I grin and announce through our telepathic link, _::: Done. :::_

Kalladura'ham beams. She flexes her hand experimentally, her grin growing wider and wider until she lunges at me, flinging her arms around me and squealing in excitement. I fall backwards into the water, hugging her tightly, laughing.

We celebrate by playing tag under the water and then lie half immersed in the sea with me pointing out various constellations. In the middle of the story of Orion she falls asleep comfortably with her head on the sand and water lapping up her belly and chest. I sleep next to her.

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : July 2, 2002 – 15:13 UTC-03**

I don't even care that one of my guests said I was impure. Again.

Apparently, even though I was prepping myself and Kalladura'ham for mocking and abuse based on the Curse of Kordax, a majority of Atlanteans moved past hair colours in the time since I was among them and decided to start in on visible differences from Homo sapiens. Thus, gills and webbing such as my own and my daughter's are hideous things that warrant verbal assault. Which is ridiculous. We're Atlanteans. We aren't supposed to look like Humans unless we have Human blood.

At the moment, I could not care less. I am going to pick up my daughter from home and we are going to go on our annual trip to the surface for her birthday.

_Whoa._ Maybe not.

I stop and swim backwards, my eyes widening at the sight at the north entrance to Shayeris. I remain where I stopped, watching as the man with the large gills and shaved head enters the city. He looks shaken. All scared eyes and unbreakable jaw set in a dark coffee complexion.

_Calvin?_

I swim towards the 25-year-old. He would have to be 25 by now. He's a year younger than me; he'd have to be. I slow as he moves past the guards and spots me. His eyes widen and flick to the left as his hand – it's webbed now, that is bizarre – makes a quick sign. I understand immediately. I won't ever forget the sign language David – Black Manta – devised for us.

I head east, towards home. Calvin – it's definitely Calvin, no mistake – follows me as expected. I sincerely hope that Kalladura'ham is not home when we get there. This would be difficult to explain to her. She has a bullshit detector a league wide, even at only 8.

I do not have to wait long in the house before Calvin is coming in, eyes wide. He stops two metres from reaching me. All we do is stare.

Very little about him has changed. He's older, obviously, but his eyes are still the same, his jaw is still set, he's still slightly taller than me but he has webbing and gills. _Webbing and gills._ He's a human, he isn't supposed to have either and even if he did they weren't supposed to work!

He's speaking Atlantean. That isn't as strange as the _webbing and gills_ but is still odd enough that it takes me a moment to register that he's actually speaking Atlantean and not English.

"Sha'lain," he uses the correct shortened version of my name, not the one that David – Black Manta – used. "I-he wanted…I can't do it now."

"Calvin, what are you talking about?" I ask, moving forward and helping him to a seat. He looks sick.

He swallows, "David."

I shut my eyes, "Did he give you the gills?"

"Yes." Calvin hesitates, "He – he wanted me to infiltrate Atlantis. Poseidonis specifically. The Palace. He wants to take over Atlantis, Sha'lain."

"Why are you here then?"

"David thinks you're still on the surface. I thought so too, same with Zed, Sierra, Keith…but I heard rumors of a half-Human child and rumors of you. I had to see if it was you."

I can't breathe when he stares up at me, his eyes echoing regret perfectly. He's desperate.

"David…I don't think he'll care if by taking over this place he hurts you and..." he pauses, clearly not remembering her name. I don't give it to him. He repeats, "I don't think he'll care if by taking over this place he hurts you and Princess."

"He probably doesn't. He just likes using people and pretending he's in control," I snap, crossing my arms. "Why are you here Cal?"

"I understand if you can't but…I need help. If he finds out what I've done, that we've _met-_"

"He'll make you tell him where we are and then he'll kill you."

His silence tells me I'm right.

"You've managed to stay hidden from him for years even while sending a letter to him every year. You're the best person I know at hiding and staying hidden. I just need to find some way to get him off my back, to think I'm dead or something."

My jaw tightens. I exhale heavily. He's right, of course. I have over a decade of experience in operating from underground or hiding in plain sight and my success rate is pretty impressive. If I want to hide someone or something no one, except perhaps my daughter, will find it.

Abruptly, I straighten up, sensing my daughter's entry into the house. Alarmed, I quickly move to Calvin, not entirely certain what to do with him. My alarm quickly turns to fear and anger as Kalladura'ham comes into my view and I see cuts and bruises, a bloody nose, a broken finger and a chunk of her hair missing. Calvin forgotten I rush over to her even as she curls into herself and bites her lower lip, trying to not cry.

My concerns are expressed both telepathically and verbally as I begin to take her bag from her – its strap is torn completely off, she's clutching it so tightly I have to pry her fingers off it – and murmur healing spells, _::: "What happened? Who did this to you? Rini, it's okay sweetheart, it's okay, Matim's here." :::_

She doesn't bother speaking verbally, just sends images and words through our telepathic link. I hug her tightly as the taunts of the bullies and the assaults – they kicked my baby, they punched my baby, they made my baby bleed and _broke her finger! _Even as the images and words – pain, fear, whywhywhywhywhy, stopstopstopstopstop – rush through my mind I know that she's holding back. She's holding back the emotions that went along with the attack. She always holds back her emotions. When she came home from her first day of school and said that she hadn't made any friends, she held back. When she came home from the third month and said that she was playing with some of the younger kids and spending break with one of her instructors because he was nice, she held back. When she said that the other kids didn't like her much, said she was too smart, said she was impure, one did – to my surprise – mention the Curse of Kordax, she held back.

It's what she does.

She cries now though. She's crying against me, even though she's trying not to, and I'm fighting the urge to start going to each of those kids' houses and either yell at the kids or punch their parents for letting my baby be hurt.

"I'll leave."

I nearly jump, having forgotten that Calvin is still here. I raise my head sharply as Kalladura'ham peeks out from my arms and stares, wide-eyed, at Calvin. I shake my head, "No, it's alright. Make yourself at home. I need to…"

"Take your time," he nods and waits for me to move Kalladura'ham to the kitchen so he decides to move to the living area to stay out of our way.

Within thirty minutes I'm in the living room introducing Kalladura'ham to my friend Calvin. As expected, she stares at the ground and clings to me.

Calvin crouches to her level, the tightness in his jaw dying away as he smiles warmly, "You know how to kick those bullies' butts?"

Kalladura'ham stares at him. She tightens her grip on my hand and says softly, "Sorta. Matim taught me some stuff."

"I was smart in school too, you know. People used to pick on me a lot."

Her eyes widen, "_Really?_"

"Oh yeah, Princess."

She ducks her head again, scuffing the ground with her toes and I can sense her embarrassment rising, "M'not a princess."

He reaches out and cups her chin in his hand. She lets him lift her chin so that she's looking at him, still hesitant. He smiles, "Trust me, you're a princess to somebody."

She doesn't seem satisfied by that answer but lets it go with a frown, "Why are you using English?"

Calvin and I freeze.

"Lots of Atlanteans know English, Kalladura'ham," I say, switching back to full Atlantean instead of Atlantean interspersed with English names and titles.

"No they don't."

Calvin smirks, "You _are_ smart, aren't you?"

Kalladura'ham crosses her arms, "Who are you really?"

It takes another twenty minutes to convince her that Calvin is a half-Atlantean who spent a lot of time on the surface with his human family (he's adopted Kalladura'ham, of course) and is nothing else. She accepts the explanation grudgingly and then we travel to the surface with Calvin accompanying us. Calvin distracts Kalladura'ham while I send David – Black Manta – the required letter and photograph.

We sit on the beach with ice cream cones in our hands and watch the sun go down. I never stop glancing over at Kalladura'ham and the healing cuts and broken finger. She knows how to fight. I taught her myself. Yet, she didn't fight back and I'm not entirely certain I know why. The thought keeps me up more effectively than helping Calvin find a way out of David's ranks does. After all, I have experience in keeping people hidden. I don't have nearly as much experience in deciphering my daughter's motivations.

* * *

**A/N: **This story became a tad larger than originally intended. Originally, it was just going to focus on fem!Kaldur in a oneshot or similar. Then Sha'lain'a grabbed me and demanded inclusion. Then I began re-reading Spirits in the Wires by Charles de Lint and reignited my love for the Urban Fantasy genre - thus the Vancouver, B.C. part of this chapter and Sha'lain'a's interpretations of magic. Then Legend of Korra began and fem!Kaldur declared that she looked like Korra, except with gills, webbing, tattoos and blonde hair. It spiraled. The Character Bunnies - yes, I got Character Bunnies instead of Plot Bunnies for this story, they're worse, I swear - attacked. It got messy. I have about 15 different versions of this thing on my computer - including crossovers because crossovers are my kryptonite - so I'm not entirely certain where this is heading but the next chapter should be from Kalladura'ham's perspective if all goes according to my (admittedly, rather chaotic) plan.

FYI, this story, for the moment, is taking a backseat to _The Warriors of the Deities_ (my small crossover between Class of the Titans and Young Justice, *cough*shameless self-plug*cough*), which should be finished in a couple weeks as I've got the bulk of it written out already. So, unless the Character Bunnies attack again, don't expect the next chapter for another week at the very least, probably two weeks.

**R&R  
**


	2. Kalladura'ham 1

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): war violence, electrocution, impalement, bombs, coarse language, mentions of discrimination**_

_**Edit: 04/02/13**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Take up our quarrel with the foe:  
__To you from failing hands we throw  
__The torch; be yours to hold it high.  
__If you break faith with us who die  
__We shall not sleep, though poppies grow  
__In Flanders Fields"_

From _In Flanders Fields_ by Major John McCrae

* * *

**1**

**Poseidonis, Atlantis : November 7, 2007 – 07:46 UTC-03**

Surface-dwellers often seem to be under the impression that Atlantean magic – sorcery – only works with water.

They are partly correct.

Atlanteans, descended from some of the oldest practicing magicians, sorcerers, sorceresses, witches – whatever you wish to call them – generally have a direct connection to the magic found on the planet. We are directly connected to the planet itself and have only grown moreso connected as Atlantis sunk and we found ourselves forced to change our very being – with some help from the deities of course – in order to survive. That is the moment when Atlantean magic became water-focused instead of simply planet-focused.

Everything has an energy; that is how my matim explained it to me. That energy is what magic-users use to perform 'magic'. The most powerful are able to call on the most basic energies in the universe, everything that effectively ties the universe together, and use it with the aid of their extremely potent self-energy (the same stuff that combines with an individual's biology to create the biological channels that glow when some Atlanteans perform sorcery). Atlanteans with the magical caliber and self-energy of my matim can call on the basic energies of so-called "soft" elements, water and air dominantly – which is then connected to her ability to produce and manipulate electricity. If she trains enough and is willing to use enough of her self-energy she could theoretically magically manipulate the weather.

I am nowhere near her caliber. I have the potential to tap into the basic energies of water in its various forms and, as my matim explained, I already instinctively know how to tap into the basic energies needed to produce electricity – basic energies which include air – so I may be able to reach her level eventually. That will not occur without considerable effort and a lot more building of artificial channels. As of now I am capable of producing electricity and manipulating water. Manipulating electricity is more challenging and I do not really need to know how to draw water from the air considering I live in Atlantis, which is underwater, and only started my military service last year.

So, in a way, the surface-dwellers that believe Atlantean magic can only work with water around are correct. Yet, they are also incorrect because Atlantean magic can be used to manipulate most basic energies of the planet. They also forget that wherever there is life there is water. So when they say that we will be powerless in a desert they are forgetting the fact that there are things such as sweat and tears. Water is also in most organisms – it is found in blood, among other areas – to keep them alive but that is far past my abilities to manipulate and is exceedingly difficult for my matim to manipulate as well. Perhaps Anassa – Queen – Mera can manipulate the water within organisms, but I would even be surprised by that.

My reason for explaining this is simple.

The Conservatory of Sorcery is trying to kill me.

I was not born with the biological self-energy channels that are present on my arms and back. My biology and self-energy decided, when I was born, to be cruel and not match up. I have a ton of self-energy and yet my biology has decided that it cannot properly process that energy alongside the energy of what I am trying to manipulate – in this case, water – thus I would have killed myself twenty-six seconds ago were it not for my artificial channels.

"Kalla, are you okay?" Tula questions hovering over my face, her face is the picture of concern.

Let us see…my back aches, my arms burn, I am reasonably certain that my tongue is dying from the taste of ash in my mouth and one of my most magically-capable friends – Tula – just shot me with an electrical explosion spell that cut right through my pathetic wobbly shield.

I want to punch something.

I hate my life. (Last week I finally found out the truth of Calvin's – my patera - father - as of two years ago – past. He was one of Black Manta's henchmen and was given artificial gills and webbing to infiltrate Atlantis and bring it down. I know that my matim was involved in some criminal activity when she was younger but it was minor. Now she's married to an ex-con who killed innocent people. I do not know how to feel about that and it irritates me.)

I hate my DNA. (No biological channels, really body? Really? And why do I have to be getting curves and growth spurts now? The changes are throwing off my ability to fight hand-to-hand, which is about the only part of my military training I am proud of. Why, body, are you destroying this for me?)

I hate my self-energy. (_Yes, let's give the girl with no biological channels some massive self-energy! That sounds like so much fun!_ Fuck you self-energy. Fuck you.)

I want to go to the dorms, curl up in my pod and sleep. It is far too early to be getting beaten up.

Why, exactly, the Shayeris academy wanted to send me to the Conservatory of Sorcery I do not know. All of the instructors at Shayeris know that while I have plenty of magical potential my body simply physically cannot handle a majority of the sorcery that they wish me to learn for the military. I was perfectly fine being educated in the finer points of kicking butt without magic. I was good at that – until the growth spurts, stupid puberty.

I am having a bad morning.

I woke up late. I tore out part of my hair when it got caught on some coral. I did not get a chance to eat breakfast because I woke up late and then had to fix my braid because half of it got messed up during the Coral Incident. Now, in my first class at the Conservatory today I am failing magnificently at making shields but am succeeding beautifully at getting electrocuted by Tula.

I really want to just tell my instructors that I am sick and I need to go back to the dorms and sleep. But my pride is not letting me.

I hate my pride.

Tula and our instructor Ja'aana eventually manage to get me to see the healers where they tut about and sigh and give me those _looks_ that I know are pity-looks. I hate them.

_Yes, I'm broken, you do not need to sigh and give me pity-looks because I am not built right. Shut. Up._

I do not say that. I let them give me the looks and when they're done healing me I let them give me The Lecture about taking on more than my body can handle and when I leave I let them talk behind my back about _how sad_ it is and about _what a pity_ it is that I cannot handle the more advanced sorcery because I _would be great at it _and they go on and on and on and_ on._

Argh! I want my matim here. She would give them all The Look because she knows how much I despise being pitied and she knows that I can accomplish a heck of a lot with what I've got. Instead of being loud and expressive with my magic I can be quiet and subtle and, frankly, I am certain that quiet and subtle is a lot more effective in war than loud and expressive.

The Conservatory is a wonderful institution for all sorts of magical capable Atlanteans like Tula, Garth, Lori, Topo and La'gaan. It's wonderful for me too, until people start talking about my lack of biological channels or the older instructors start musing about the Curse of Kordax and I look at Ronal – he would be considered undeniably pure by the older instructors were it not for his blond hair – and exchange exasperated looks with him. We are not friends but when the seniors start talking about the Curse of Kordax as if it is still an issue when in fact it died years ago you tend to build a mutual understanding off their bigotry.

I grab my water-bearers from Tula and remain silent as she fusses over me for a minute and then awkwardly falls into silence. I have never informed her of how angry I am that I was not built right but she is perceptive. She probably already knows. She probably realizes that despite my nods I do not appreciate her fussing over me because it makes me feel…ugh…_fragile_. I do not like feeling fragile. I do not need her – or anyone else's, except perhaps my parents' – protection. I did not train for years in physical combat to build up my strength, stamina, agility and skill – while ignoring my matim's and patera's attempts to get me to slow down – just to be protected by superior sorcerers. I trained so that I could take care of myself no matter my biological failings.

I trained because I was angry that I was being treated as more fragile than everyone else merely because my biology would not let me be the best I could be magically. I trained because I was tired of putting up with people calling me impure. More importantly, however, I trained because I enjoyed – still enjoy – training. It's what I do in my spare time. I love it. Then people pity me and I get angry and annoyed again so I train some more out of anger and annoyance until my anger and annoyance vanishes and I'm just training because I enjoy training. Or, if I am unable to train for whatever reason, I am studying the histories and the present exploits of heroes because I enjoy learning about them because they are fascinating and because I want to be like Wonder Woman and Batman and Annex – King – Orin because I know I can do it.

Also, it would show everyone who keeps on pitying me or calling me worthless because I'm "impure" that I do not need their pity and I sure as heck am not worthless. I suppose that is immature of me, but I really do not care. I am thirteen. There is going to be some immaturity.

The next class I have with Tula is all about battles and their strategies throughout Atlantean history. We have it with Garth – he is adorable – who questions the presence of the wraps around my hands and my tight grip on my water-bearers. I could hang my water-bearers from my belt but I need to hold something. I need to grip something that will not wind up breaking in my grip. My water-bearers are instruments created by my sorcery instructors in Shayeris with help from my matim that are supposed to help me focus my self-energy. As such, they are nearly indestructible. I am stronger than most Atlanteans due to my prolonged visitations to the surface-world – Patera has family there, we visit, and we always go for my birthday, Matim insists – and my more intensive physical training so my water-bearers need to be nearly indestructible.

I ensure that Tula knows I do not harbour any hard feelings for her beating me. I am annoyed with myself, actually. I ensure that Garth is aware that I am fine and then after class I take advantage of the short break to hunt down mine and Tula's instructor to question what I could do differently to make the shield remain up.

I find her – Ja'aana – in the training field practicing for herself during her own break. She determines the problem quickly enough when I show her my pathetic shield again. My problem is not channeling, surprisingly enough, my problem is sustaining. My focus is apparently all over the place. I should not be surprised by this, really. My focus _is_ all over the place. I am frustrated. My focus vanishes when I am frustrated.

"There is obviously something on your mind," Ja'aana says, watching as my shield falls apart, again. "If you wish to speak of it with me, I am free to do so."

I hesitate, "I…" I tighten my hold on my water-bearers, "I am having a bad morning."

"You cannot let a bad morning rule your mind, Kalladura'ham."

"I am aware. It is difficult to not let such a thing happen though."

"I know," she smiles. "It takes a lot of practice, believe me."

"That…is not particularly helpful."

"I know, sorry. I find it helpful to tell someone about my bad day. Would you like to tell me about yours?"

"I suppose I could."

That is how I find myself on the edge of the training field explaining why I consider my morning absolutely horrendous to my combat sorcery instructor Ja'aana. I am certain that Ja'aana, having been in the military and participated in the 1986 Battle of the Strait, has had much worse mornings, but she listens. It does help. Childishly, I wish to scowl and stubbornly refuse to admit that it helps, but I figure that I have been immature enough today – having given Tula the silent treatment after visiting the healers.

I open my mouth to thank her-_BOOM! CRACK!_

My face hits the ground. Ja'aana's hand is on my back keeping me against the ground while her opposite hand is out and snapping up a shield in front of us. The shield is guarding us from the debris raining around us courtesy of the explosion that ripped across the training field.

I'm shaking. My ears are ringing and every single lesson from my instructors rushes back to me in startling clarity.

_In the instant when you are confronted by an ambush your first instinct will be to protect yourself. Do it, but never at the expense of your fellow soldier. You will not be able to help him or her if you yourself are not alive._

There's an eerie stillness as the debris begin to float listlessly through the water. I can feel my heart in my throat and Ja'aana's hand firm on my back keeps me from trying to push myself into a crouch like her.

"Your water-bearers," Ja'aana says and I realize she must have cast a healing spell of some sort because my ears are not ringing anymore.

I fumble for a second, trying to grab my water-bearers, then clamp my hands around them and wait.

"Who-" I whisper, stopping as Ja'aana drops the shield and moves her hand from my back. She swims forward, her left hand making the signal for me to stay low as her right hand begins to glow. Her channels glow around her arms and then the ball of energy in her right hand shoots off her palm, startling the people in the armoured black suits that are beginning to appear amidst the debris. The ball explodes, knocking out two of the enemies.

Oh Poseidon, there were people on the training field. The training field is obliterated. What…what happened to…what…_the people._

No.

Stay focused Kalla. Stay focused.

Be ready.

The enemies – there are enemies, there are enemies, _there are enemies _– are immediately on high alert, scanning the area where the glowing light flashed. Ja'aana has a shield up in the next instant and glowing energy tentacles rise from the ocean floor, grabbing the enemies and flinging them into each-other. A typhoon rises in the water, whipping two of the enemies around, into the typhoon and then guiding them out on the opposite edge of the obliterated training field. That's when the water turns murky and Ja'aana gestures for me to move. There are still two others left in the field but they are confused, unable to pinpoint where Ja'aana is thanks to the quick spell that made the water appear murky.

She grabs my hand and pulls my through the murky water until we reach the edge where we immediately start hearing people shouting and screaming. Throughout the city there are areas which were obviously the victims of explosions. I start shaking again.

There are _people there. Innocent people._

"Kalladura'ham, you can handle this," Ja'aana is saying. "This is what you trained for. You can fight. You are the best in your class in unarmed and weapons combat. You have a firm grasp on strategy and tactics and you _know this city_, you can handle this Kalladura'ham. Do you understand?" She's grabbing my shoulders, staring at me, "Kalladura'ham, _do you understand?_"

She was in the training field with some students and another instructor. They are all probably dead. Right now, we are the only people who were on the training field who we know are alive. I probably look terrified. She does not need me terrified right now.

I nod, swallowing, "I understand."

Do not lose it. Do not lose it. You can handle this. You can handle this.

Ja'aana does not want you to lose it. She needs you to remain calm. Remain calm. Remain calm. Just remember your lessons and you will be fine.

Right.

I take in a deep breath and nod, feeling calmer than before. This seems to satisfy her because she releases my shoulders and then moves forward. I follow, immensely grateful that I have someone with me who knows what she's doing because I, frankly, have no idea despite the fact that I am supposedly trained for this.

I wonder if this is what all trainees feel when they enter the battlefields.

It takes me an embarrassingly long moment to realize that we are heading to the indoor training area of the Conservatory. It is only when Ja'aana is leading me into the area that I realize where we are.

Clearly, I am not cut out to be a soldier.

It takes moments – moments I spend ensuring that my friends are safe, Tula hugs me until I cannot breathe and Topo clings to me – for the instructors, Anassa Mera included, to guide us students in the defense of Poseidonis and themselves into the defense of us. I wind up assisting Garth in freeing a few pinned civilians the next sector over while under the command of Captain Avares whose squad is on the freeing pinned civilians job. Tula is with Anassa Mera assisting in establishing a few massive shields to keep the enemies out of the most sensitive areas of the Conservatory. I have to push my worry for her to the back of my mind as I lift a pillar up and Garth and another soldier pull the man who wound up pinned beneath the pillar. His legs are _definitely_ broken. There is bone sticking out of his right shin.

We do that for a while, succeeding in meeting minimal enemies thanks to the quick work of the other squads, until Garth spots something that he considers odd; three parallel scratches with burn marks around them on the edge of the armoury that is nearly out of Poseidonis limits. I inspect it impatiently to humour him and nearly wind up electrocuting myself thanks to the residual electrical charge on the scratches – which explains the burning around them.

Before Garth and I get a chance to point out the odd marking to Captain Avares our ears start ringing thanks to another explosion.

_BOOM! CRACK-CRASHCRACKAPOP!_

Part of the dome around Poseidonis ruptures from the explosion, causing shards of the dome to rip through the water. Garth immediately protects us behind an ice wall he summons and once again the eerie stillness after an explosion descends.

I can spot two of the soldiers floating in the water, blood floating out of their skulls, hit by the dome's debris. Another is knocked out. Three of them had left to communicate with another recovery squad whom we lost contact with. Captain Avares seems to be the only one conscious that is not injured. The other soldier conscious has his fin sliced by the debris and his right arm is pinned – most definitely broken – by the wall Garth and I had been inspecting. He's struggling, at least.

I take in another deep breath and force my fears down my throat. I create a shield out of the water and peek over the ice wall Garth created to find myself staring at Ocean Master.

Ocean. Master.

The man who keeps on attempting to either obliterate or rule Atlantis. I can never figure out which, he causes so much destruction. I did a project on him once. He uses a trident from which he can shoot electric bolts – which led me to the conclusion that he was unable to use magic. He wears a crown and a cape and hates Annex Orin.

Annex Orin. Whose foot is currently impaled on a dome shard and bleeding. Annex Orin. Who is clearly the recent victim of an electrocution and being near an explosion that has left his ears ringing like my own. Annex Orin. Who is currently barely managing to keep Ocean Master's electrical trident from _impaling his face._

I have to be hallucinating.

"Annex!" Captain Avares obviously sees the same thing I do.

I am not hallucinating.

Garth pops up beside me and immediately his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

Okay. Okay. Situation: Annex Orin is wounded and at the mercy of Ocean Master and his electrical very-very pointy trident. Captain Avares is the only soldier here conscious and not wounded. Garth and I are not soldiers, we are students, but we are also the only ones here capable of using magic.

Okay.

Okay.

Got it.

Right.

"Garth!" I shout before I realize I'm shouting because he has swam _over the ice wall_ and is heading straight for _Ocean Master and his electrical very-very pointy trident what in the name of Poseidon is that boy doing?_

Captain Avares is already at Ocean Master, tackling him off Annex Orin and swearing. Garth immediately moves to Annex Orin and begins attempting to use his few healing spells and I shoot over the ice wall because I am supposed to be trained for this .

My head is still sore from the explosion but I ignore it and form a couple swords with my water-bearers just as Avares hits a rock wall and the trident hits her stomach and cuts through and there is blood, there is _blood. _Electricity rips through her body as the points of the trident collide with the rock wall having cut through her abdomen completely and she is screaming and _I know I will never stop hearing that sound oh Poseidon make it stop!_

I abandon the sword idea and hook my water-bearers back on my belt as I dive and slam my hands on the rod of the trident. My artificial channels glow and the electricity snaps from the trident up into my arms and across my back. I twist and slam my feet on the rock on either side of Avares' head with my hands still clamped on the rod of the trident and I push myself off the rock, pulling the trident in the same instant. The trident rips out of her flesh, the electricity still slamming into me and for a split-second I lose control and all I see is lightning and _omigodithurts._

Then I'm hitting the rock wall and my arm is bleeding and my hands are burning again and I cannot see properly – oh Poseidon why can't I see why is it blurry – and Avares isn't screaming anymore thank goodness.

"Kalla!"

A glowing green shark of energy spawns from the water and slams Ocean Master away from me as I shake my head and try to regain my bearings.

Garth is whipping out every spell he knows and clearly trying to use what I taught him in unarmed combat but Ocean Master has years of experience, about a foot in height and at least seventy pounds on him with the physical strength to match. I know that I may be bigger than Garth right now but I am still not nearly at Ocean Master's height or weight. I might be as strong as him though. I'm stronger than a few adults because of how much and where I've trained.

My water-bearers snap into my hands and I dart towards Ocean Master as he succeeds in breaking Garth's nose and slamming him against the ground. I dodge his twist as he attempts to wallop me with the rod of his trident.

_Rini, you won't always be smaller than your opponents, but when you are, use it. Duck and dodge and make them angry because they cannot shake you. Angry people have a tendency to make mistakes when fighting. That is when you strike. That is when you take them down._

Thanks, Matim.

I block his trident with my water-bearer swords, unbelievably thankful that I spoke to Ja'aana about my bad morning – as if it's bad now, that morning was _not bad_ – before this all happened. Now I can focus. Now I can concentrate. Now I can make effective weapons and shields. _I can do this._

I duck under his arm, intending on twisting when he turns and kicking him in the gut but he anticipates my duck and his hand latches around my braid. I shout and my hands immediately fly to the back of my head causing me to drop my water-bearers as he drags me back around by my braid. I lash out with my feet as I grab the base of my braid to keep him from pulling it anymore than he already is but he blocks my feet. He pulls on my braid, eliciting another startled shout from me, and wraps the braid around his hand before slamming his hand on the back of my head and sending my crashing face-first into the ground. I feel blood beginning to spill from my nose and mouth as I bite my tongue. I can feel his trident against my back. _Oh Poseidon, I'm going to die. I am going to die. Oh Poseidon, Poseidon, Poseidon, Poseidon._

There's a water-bearer on the ground to my right, too far away for me to reach without moving my entire body.

I can see out of the corner of my eye his trident pulsing with energy. My eyes widen.

Wait.

I don't need my water-bearers to use magic.

_Idiot._

I slam my hands up and wrap them around his wrist, charging my channels with electricity that shoots up my back, up my arms and straight into my hands to be released against his wrist. He shouts – more in surprise than pain I imagine as he is covered in armour – and his grip on my braid loosens. I roll to the right immediately and grab my water-bearer from the ground just as he wrenches me back up by my braid. I snap out my left foot, sending the tips of his trident skidding across my shin, and bring up my bladed water-bearer. The blade slices through the base of my braid effortlessly as my foot slams into his gut, sending him flying away from me with the bulk of my braid in his hand.

I move to stand but immediately wince and glance down to find that his trident had cut further than I had realized into my shin and that leg cannot support itself anymore, nor is it particularly good for swimming with.

Problem.

With a glance around me I quickly ascertain that Garth is unconscious, Captain Avares appears to be dead despite my best efforts – don't look too long, don't look, oh Poseidon I can still hear her _screaming_ – the one conscious but wounded soldier is still pinned beneath the wall and Annex Orin is…yes…yes Annex Orin is getting up. Thank you Poseidon. Maybe I won't actually die today. _Idon'twannadiedon'twannadiedon'twannadie._

I dive for my second water-bearer as Ocean Master tosses my braid to the side and moves towards me. He reaches me first. I barely block his trident with a shield but he manages to hit me to the ground on my back and kick my water-bearer from my grasp. His trident slams down, straight for my face. My hands snap up, thankfully small enough to fit between the prods and grab the bar that keeps the prods together. My channels glow as the electricity surges down the trident and my arms shake as he presses down on the trident even harder. He's strong and my right arm is still bleeding.

Then the pressure vanishes and I'm suddenly holding a trident by its forked end without anyone holding it from the rod end. I twist, grabbing the trident by its rod and find myself staring at Annex Orin tackling Ocean Master into the rock wall and rapidly turning blurry. Blurry…the same symptom I experienced after being electrocuted by Tula this morning, then the trident the first time…for an instant.

Oh.

**19:22 UTC-03**

Ow.

My entire body aches. I realize that before I open my eyes.

When I open them I find myself floating in one of the healing pods and staring at Matim, Patera, a Healer I do not know and Annex Orin. I do a double-take.

Annex Orin?

I do a quick look around the room. Sure enough, it is a healing wing of…someplace with some serious money. There is filigree on the walls. Normal healing wings do not have filigree on the walls.

Why is Annex Orin in my healing room? I was under the impression that he was, well, the King of Atlantis and therefore had better things to do than watch me – a lowly peasant who was not even built right – heal.

"Rini, how do you feel?" Matim questions immediately, moving to the healing pod instantly alongside Patera, not even giving me a chance to greet Annex Orin respectfully with a salute at the very least.

"Achy," I answer honestly, because she always knows when I'm lying and trying to be strong and she gives me _That Look_, which I hate. "Otherwise, fine," I glance down at my left shin and then at my right arm, "especially considering the trident damage."

I can still hear Avares screaming. I want to cry, scream, do _something_ to make the screaming stop but I will not. Annex Orin is here. I will not make a fool of myself.

Matim swallows. Patera glances at the Healer who nods and speaks to me, "Kalladura'ham, my name is Vena. I am your Healer for the moment. Do you have a headache?"

I shake my head.

"Alright, I will make sure your vitals are good and then you will be permitted to move around a bit, but take it easy."

Matim snorts.

I shoot a glare at her.

Annex Orin doesn't say a word while Healer Vena does her job. He just watches Matim, Patera, Vena and I. Honestly, it is unnerving.

_::: Why is Annex Orin here? I need to salute him or bow or…do something to greet him appropriately. ::: _I say to Matim telepathically.

She glances at Annex Orin and explains, _::: He was concerned. You and Garth…you risked your lives to protect him and Captain Avares. He wishes to ensure that you are healing well and, I believe, he wants to speak to you. :::_

I can sense her concern through our link so add, _::: I am fine, Matim. Merely sore. :::_

_::: I know you are well physically but…Rini, you saw people die today. You tried to save a woman and she died. __**You**__ nearly died. I will worry about you. A matim never stops worrying. :::_

I stiffen at the mention of Captain Avares and stare at the ground, _::: Apologies, I did not mean to make you worry. :::_

She raises an eyebrow and shoots me a Look, _::: I will believe that when you stop pushing yourself to exhaustion and yet continue to insist that you are fine. :::_

I have nothing to say to that. She has a point, as much as a loathe to admit it. I do do that and I can still hear Captain Avares' screams. I do not wish to hear her screams. They terrify me more than Ocean Master.

Soon, Healer Vena is finished and I find myself sitting beside my Matim – who refuses to stop holding my hand and squeezing it every so often – and Patera – who hugged me the instant I got out of the healing pod – while Annex Orin stands in front of us. He looks awkward, oddly enough. After a moment he sits across from us and leans towards me, saying, "You were incredibly valiant, Kalladura'ham."

I stare at him, not entirely certain how to react to that.

"If you and your friend had not intervened I would be dead right now," he continues. "Thank you."

I swallow, "I-I _we _did what we had to do."

He shakes his head, "No, you didn't. You didn't have to risk your life to save mine or the Captain's." I stiffen. Patera and Matim notice. Patera moves slightly closer and Matim squeezes my hand. Annex Orin continues after a moment, "How old are you, Kalladura'ham?"

"Thirteen," I answer, fighting to keep my voice steady and sit up straight. Why does everyone keep on mentioning Captain Avares? I just want her screaming to go away and they are not helping that occur.

"Thirteen," he repeats. "You've only been training for a year. Not many graduates could have done what you did."

I am certain he is lying to make me feel better.

"I realize that this is early, but…" he trails off. After a moment he begins again, "As you know, I am Aquaman on the surface-world and a part of the Justice League." I nod when he pauses. He continues, "However, there are moments where my responsibilities to Atlantis outweigh my responsibilities to the League, despite the fact that the League may benefit from having an Atlantean with them at that moment. There will come a time where I am unable to continue to be Aquaman and having a successor would be…beneficial."

I feel as though I know where he is heading with this but I do not want to believe it.

"You don't have to give me an answer right away. In fact, I don't expect an answer right away." He pauses, looking at me, it is as if he is looking into my soul and I feel the sudden urge to apologize for every moment I disobeyed my matim or patera. "Have you heard of Robin?"

I nod immediately, recalling my times on the surface-world when my cousin would speak of the various heroes and I would later do my own research on them, "Yes, Batman's protégé."

He nods, "I would be honoured if you would become my – Aquaman's that is – protégé."

Breathing becomes difficult.

I nearly choke on my own saliva. I am frozen, unable to say anything. Matim and Patera are similarly shocked. They stare at Annex Orin unreservedly, jarred by the sudden proposition.

"Think about it. I do not need an answer right away," he says, rising. I have the sudden urge to bow but my shock keeps me stationary. He smirks, "Remember to keep it easy."

"Yes sir," I answer automatically.

He offers a warm smile that passes right over my head and then he leaves.

I have no idea what I say but it comes out high-pitched, like a squeak.

"Why don't you rest for a bit?" Patera suggests, putting his arm around my shoulders and hugging me with one arm. "You can think about this in the morning."

I shake at the one-armed hug and then turn and press my face into his chest, suddenly shaking uncontrollably. Immediately both of his arms wrap around me and I can feel Matim rubbing my back. The rubbing makes me cave completely and a strangled sob escapes my mouth.

"It'll be okay, Princess," Patera assures me as I cling to his shirt, still unable to stop hearing Captain Avares' screams and see the blood and the twisting and thrashing of her body as the electricity _rips through her flesh just like the trident. _"It'll be okay."

Matim sends reassuring thoughts through our telepathic link and hugs me from behind. Immediately my strangled sobs turn into full-blown sobbing.

_::: We're right here, Rini. Right here. :::_

_::: I can still hear her screaming, Matim! I can still hear her! ::: _Even my thoughts sound terrified.

Patera is rocking me back and forth like when I was ten. Matim was out and he wasn't Patera yet but he was looking after me because Matim had asked him to. I had a nightmare and he hugged me and held me the entire night. I didn't have any nightmares again that night.

"We're right here Princess," he repeats. "We're right here."

* * *

**Poseidonis, Atlantis : November 11, 2007 – 12:52 UTC-03**

"Annex, a girl named Kalladura'ham is here to see you," I hear Xander, the lean man with the green scales and long green hair, say.

A moment later he returns and smiles at me – I wonder if he knows why Annex Orin is interested in me, none of the media outlets have been saying anything about the fight with Ocean Master. He holds open the door leading into the office I was told to go to after being searched, deemed not a threat, and sent through about five other rooms, "He will see you, Miss."

I nod to him anxiously, "Thank you."

Xander smiles at me, "Just doing my job."

I swim past him and the door shuts behind me as I spot Annex Orin by the desk in the room. Prince Orm nods to me, smiling just barely, then leaves through a side door. Hastily, I salute Annex Orin and half-bow thanks to nerves, "Annex Orin, I apologize for the intrusion. If I had known that you were with the Prince I would have never-"

He's smiling, amused, so I trail off. He moves forward, "It is no intrusion, Kalladura'ham. I requested that you consider my offer. I expected you to be by sooner or later."

I nod, with no idea how to respond to that.

"How are you?" he questions. "I heard that you have been suffering from nightmares."

Where did he…?

"Er…yes sir," I confirm. "I have."

"I presume because of the attack."

I lower my eyes, "Yes sir."

"Please, call me Orin."

"Yes sir – Orin sir." I frown as I realize what I said.

"I am sorry you have suffered such things," he says, somber. "No one so young should have to."

"I am dealing with it, sir, and it was hardly your fault, but thank-you."

I consider the matter closed and he apparently does as well because he questions, "Have you considered my proposition?"

"Yes sir." I find my eyes darting about the office – dear Poseidon it is _huge_ – and hastily refocus my attention on him. "I would be honoured to be your – Aquaman's – protégé."

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. I stiffen. He smiles, "You are certain? You have spoken to your parents and your instructors?"

"Yes sir. I will gladly accept your offer."

"Excellent."

"Annex…"

"Yes?"

"Garth – my friend – he said that you came to him with the same offer. Is that correct?"

"Yes it is. I assume you know of his decision?"

"Yes. He prefers to focus on his studies at the Conservatory, and he told you as such a couple days ago."

"He did. You do not wish to focus on your studies at the Conservatory?"

"May I speak frankly, sir?"

"Of course."

"I…" I hesitate. "I believe that I will benefit much more under your tutelage as your – Aquaman's – protégé rather than continuing to study at the Conservatory where my…physical limitations are quite present and debilitating."

"Understandable," he nods and I wonder if his wife Anassa Mera has informed him of my struggles at the Conservatory where she is Head. "Have you considered a name?"

"Like yours – Aquaman?"

"Yes."

"Not really."

"How would you feel about Aqualass?"

I hesitate. Frankly, I do not particularly like it, but it is Annex Orin's idea. It would be inappropriate, surely, to disagree with his idea. I smile hesitantly, "Sure."

He practically beams, "Excellent. Now, do you have the time to start establishing a training schedule?"

"Training schedule?"

"You have been trained by the Conservatory and academies but I still need to train you personally, Kalladura'ham. We will be working together quite a bit after all."

"Oh, yes, of course. I have time."

"After Mera and I believe you have reached an adequate level in your training we will begin operating as Aquaman and Aqualass in Atlantis. After some time here I will begin taking you to the surface-world where we can introduce you to the surface-dwellers and you can get used to fighting and investigating on land."

"Actually, Annex, I have been on the surface-world quite a number of times."

He raises his eyebrows again, "Really?"

"My Patera is…part-human and has family on the surface. We go and I visit my cousins," I explain. Well, he sort of is and I have no idea if Annex Orin knows of my Patera's involvement with Black Manta so I cannot simply mention that. Yes, he is the King of Atlantis and should probably know of Patera's former criminal activities but Patera is…my Patera. I cannot explain his past to Annex Orin without his permission. Perhaps later.

"I see."

"My Matim and Patera also take me to the surface-world for my birthday each year. It has become a tradition. As such I am reasonably familiar with the surface-world and I can speak English fluently."

"Excellent, that removes one adapting month from the schedule," Annex Orin says, looking delighted with that turn of events. "After we establish a basic schedule we'll start discussing uniforms, what do you think?"

I gnaw on my lower lip then ask hesitantly, "Must I wear orange?"

He laughs – he has a laugh that comes from the belly. "Not your favourite colour I take it!"

"No sir – Orin…sir."

"Of course not," he smiles, looking amused at my struggle to call him by his name. "My only requirements are that your torso is protected and you wear the glyph of Atlantis somewhere on it."

"I can do that."

"Excellent. Now, tell me what your schedule at the Conservatory is like."

* * *

**A/N: **In memory of all who've lost their lives due to war, and to those who have lost loved ones due to war.

In Flanders Fields was written by Major John McCrae, a Canadian army physician and poet who wrote it in 1915 near the centre of Ypres. (At the Second Battle of Ypres in 1915 was where the Canadians proved themselves an impressive fighting force while they were holding their ground against Chlorine Gas. FYI, this is generally marked as the first time gas was used on the Western Front. Major McCrae wrote In Flanders Fields while in the trenches.) Major McCrae died on January 28, 1918.

Here's a link to the full poem, just take out the spaces: inflandersfields .be / en / world-war-i-in-flanders / the-in-flanders-fields-poem

The last part of the poem I thought fit this chapter, both because of the deaths of the Atlantean soldiers and because of the line about the torch. Kalla is struggling to accept that she couldn't save many people, that this is what war – what she could be training for – may in fact be like and that she has the potential to be a completely incredible warrior despite the fact that _at that moment, at that time_ she was unable to save as many lives as she wished she could, plus it's her King who sees her potential and is willing to pass on 'the torch' as it may be.

FYI, I have never been a part of the military myself. I merely know a number of military personnel and volunteer at a military museum. If I made a mistake about McCrae or Ypres, please inform me and I'll correct it.

**R&R**


	3. Kalladura'ham 2

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, mention of drug use and overdosing, human trafficking, mentions of murder, allusions to gang rape, minor coarse language  
**_

_**Edit: 04/02/13**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Nothing in the world is more flexible and yielding than water. Yet when it attacks the firm and the strong, none can withstand it, because they have no way to change it. So the flexible overcome the adamant, the yielding overcome the forceful. Everyone knows this, but no one can do it."_

Lao Tzu

* * *

Matim and I visit Joa sometimes.

After Matim moved us away from Greece in the winter of '99 and into Shayeris – my first time living in Atlantis – I missed the people we had befriended. The ones who could see around corners and were aware of the energy all around them. The ones who saw all the shades of gray and were happy, or at least content, with that.

It was when I was nine that Matim and I traveled back to the surface. Calvin – he wasn't Patera by then – didn't come. I never really understood then why Matim wanted us to go to Vancouver. Now, I can guess that she perhaps wanted to find that something that was familiar and accepting and _warm_. So much had changed that year with Calvin's appearance that she needed some form of stability that wasn't people calling her and me 'impure', something that didn't involve hiding herself and me.

The scents of salt and grass mingled with metal and gas and I saw a woman in her fifties who looked closer to her seventies. She wore layers upon layers of clothing and upon her hands were copper markings that she said were her family.

I never understood what she meant.

Her eyes were sea-glass green and occasionally she would gaze off into a distance I couldn't see and return minutes later, blinking. Then she'd look at me fondly and rub my cheek, murmuring about how much I'd grown.

I've never forgotten the scents of salt and grass when they mingle with metal and gas. I knew, instinctually, that Joa had melded with the city through her years so intimately that she didn't need a newspaper to know what was going on. Somehow, she just knew. When I was a child, I envied that knowledge.

When I was twelve I saw a boy on the ground of an alley, he had overdosed on something I'm certain, but then Joa and Matim were there and pulling me away from the death and I realized then that Joa could see _everything_. She saw all of the happiness within the city, the joy, but she also saw all of the pain, all of the crime, all of the hurt and the meanness and the death.

I asked her once about it. How she didn't turn mean from all of the meanness around her.

She responded, as usual, cryptically, "Some people become kinder when confronted by meanness. Some people don't. I think that's one of the most remarkable things in the world."

I didn't understand then. I'm still not certain I understand now.

* * *

**2**

**Star City, California : April 10, 2008 – 22:32 PDT**

/ Recognized, Aqualass B02. /

I stride out of the zeta-beam teleporter tube as per usual slightly thrown by the lack of water surrounding me. Anxiously, I stop beside my King, my hands twitching. I press them against my thighs to try and lessen my appearance of anxiety and watch as Green Arrow and his protégé, Speedy, land in front of us.

Annex Orin had decided that meeting someone closer to my age first would be best, thus, meeting Green Arrow and Speedy before Batman and Robin. In theory, we are supposed to be meeting with Batman and Robin next week. We shall see if that occurs.

"Aquaman, how's Atlantis?" Green Arrow promptly questions as I resist the urge to scuff the ground with my toes as Speedy and Green Arrow scan me.

"Well," Annex responds then turns, placing a hand on my shoulder and pulling me out from where I'm standing trying to gather my courage half-behind him. His hand squeezes my shoulder, well aware of my anxiety in making a good first impression, and he introduces, "This is my protégé, Aqualass. Aqualass, this is Green Arrow and his protégé-"

"Partner," Speedy cuts in. My eyes snap up and I stare at Speedy, wide-eyed. Sharply, I glare at him. You do not interrupt the King of Atlantis. I was under the impression that the surface-world's heroes were a bit more respectful.

"Partner," Annex Orin corrects, "Speedy."

"What?" Speedy snaps, sharply glaring at me in response to my glare.

I take a step forward, "You disrespected Annex Orin. That will not be stood-"

"Relax," Annex says, keeping me from moving forward and possibly throttling Speedy. "Here I am Aquaman. I am only King of Atlantis when I need to be."

I stare at him, "Forgive me, Annex, but that does not make any sense. You are always An – King of Atlantis, wherever you may be."

He sighs, "Yes, but I am recognized firstly as Aquaman, secondly as King."

I frown but nod, "Yes sir." I turn to Speedy and nod to him as I hold out my hand, "Apologies for my rash accusation."

He stares at me for a moment then reaches out hesitantly and grasps my hand. I grasp his in return and shake as he nods, "Yeah, whatever."

He winces slightly at my grasp. Hastily, I release his hand, "My apologies, it always takes me a couple minutes to readjust how I use my strength when I come to the surface. I did not break anything did I?"

"No," he says, rubbing his hand. "How strong are you? Your grip is like a vise_._"

"I can lift a fair amount," I respond.

He glares at me again. I have no idea if it is because I grasped his hand too hard or because of some other reason. I clasp my hands behind my back anxiously and look back at Annex Orin. He looks at Green Arrow.

An awkward moment passes rife with Speedy glaring at me for some undetermined reason.

"Well!" Green Arrow exclaims. "We're doing an investigation."

Annex Orin nods gratefully, "Lead the way."

"Right," Green Arrow pulls out a grappling arrow and shoots it at one of the buildings across the street. Speedy follows. Annex and I dart across the street and leap onto the top of the building then follow the Arrows across the roofs.

Turns out, the Arrows are investigating a human trafficking ring. It is not particularly different from that which occurs in Atlantis save for the 'human' part.

I sit with Speedy on a roof nearby while our mentors move in closer. Speedy wastes no time in muttering about how unfair it is he has to 'babysit' and he can't join our mentors in 'kicking ass'. I ignore the babysitting comment. He is only a couple of years older than me and I am more than capable of taking care of myself, but he is clearly frustrated and if his outlet is insulting me rather than disobeying our mentors and moving in closer then I will put up with the insults.

I look through the darkness, forever grateful for my Atlantean eyesight, and watch as a truck stops by the warehouse where the people are being…'processed' I supposed would be the closest correct term. Speedy is watching through a set of binoculars.

My eyes widen as the traffickers begin unloading some restrained, some clearly drugged, kids about my own age and a couple girls a couple years older. _Fantastic._ They've started going younger than late teens.

Speedy immediately communicates the specs to our mentors.

::: Aqualass, stay where you are, ::: Annex Orin orders. When we were investigating one of the rings in Atlantis two weeks ago he said the same thing. I can understand why he wishes me to remain outside – I'd make the traffickers a ton of money and even with my physiology and training the traffickers could overwhelm me by sheer numbers – but that does not mean that I have to like it. I could provide a distraction at the very least and then just go underwater, or to the surface in the case of the Atlantean ring.

::: Speedy, stay with her, ::: Green Arrow adds.

I bristle at the implication that I cannot take care of myself but hunker down anyway, preparing myself for incidences of over-protectiveness.

"Stay here," Speedy orders then shoots a grappling arrow to the top of the warehouse.

I watch incredulously as he lands and rolls on the top of the warehouse. He's just leaving me? Seriously? But his mentor – oh for the love of Poseidon. Fine then. Be that way. I will just find a better place to watch from. Closer to water.

I would prefer not to attract the attention of the traffickers so I head down the old stairs of the abandoned, decrepit building. The building reminds me of the building Matim and I lived in when I was a toddler. Vaguely, at least, I do not remember much from those years.

_CRACK!_

I glance backwards at the stairs as I hurry down them, alarmed by the crack.

_CRACRASH!_

The stairs vanish beneath my feet and I crash right through them, then the next set of old, rotted wooden stairs, then the next – ow – until I manage to grab a railing – which immediately breaks in half – and roll myself off the stairs. I hit the ground.

Ow.

Okay. Building is decrepit and without my matim's strengthening spells. Clearly.

I roll onto my hands and knees, coughing from the dust that had risen and threatened to get into my gills. Spitting out saliva mingling with dust I crawl past the stairs, well aware of the chunk of wood that is lodged in my shoulder.

What a superhero I have turned out to be. My one weakness – stairs.

"The fuck?"

I look up sharply.

Apparently, my fall and destruction of the rotted stairs drew the attention of the traffickers. Of course.

"What the hell are you doing here girl?" he questions, moving forward immediately and grabbing me by the collar of my uniform, lifting me completely off the ground. His eyes widen, "The fuck are…are those gills?"

"Get your hands off me," I demand, glaring at him.

He laughs and promptly spins me, holding me so that my back is against his chest while one arm is around me and the other is holding his gun to my temple. He shouts back at his fellow traffickers, "Hey Will, think some freak has a thing for gills?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" the man named Will calls back, appearing in the doorway.

::: _Gills?_ Aqualass, Speedy, where are you? ::: Annex Orin asks. I can hear fear in his voice. It is an odd sound.

::: I told you to stay there! ::: Speedy complains.

"Unhand me, now," I repeat, my entire body tensing as I grip his forearm.

"Someone probably does," Will says, walking forward and pulling out what appears to be a syringe.

As if a normal human syringe would penetrate my skin.

"If you unhand me, you will not be harmed," I state, tightening my grip on his arm.

They look at each other and laugh. "You're just a little girl! You can't hurt-"

The man holding me stops abruptly as I slam my fingers into his arm and my tattoos glow, electricity sparking off them. The electricity slams out of my hands and into his arm, causing him to scream in pain and sharply release me as he careen backwards, colliding with the opposite wall in a heap of dust. The gun goes off at the ceiling and I land in a crouch, noting that Will is staring at his partner-in-crime, limp, unconscious, and with an electrical burn on his forearm.

I take my chance.

He whips out his gun. I grab my water-bearers. He pulls the trigger. I form a shield and sprint forward. The bullet ricochets off my shield and I bring up my opposite water-blade, slicing straight through the barrel of the firearm. I twist and kick him in the back, sending him crashing straight into the remains of the stairs.

"Will? Br-ah!"

I turn sharply to see another trafficker being knocked out by Annex Orin. I watch as Annex immediately darts into the warehouse and heads straight to me.

"Are you well? They did not harm you did they? What were you thinking?"

I glance at the unconscious men and then look back at Annex, puzzled by the fact that he seemed to be attempting to inspect me, "I am well, Annex. They did not get the chance to harm me. I electrocuted one and kicked another into those stairs. Both are unconscious, although the one I electrocuted will need medical attention for the burn. I did not mean to attract their attention. I was intending on getting into a better position and knew that jumping off the roof would attract their attention so I decided to take the stairs but they broke underneath me."

"You are well?" Annex repeats, locating the chunk of wood in my shoulder. "And this chunk of wood is what then?"

"A nuisance."

He grips my arm then pulls out the chunk of wood and tosses it to the side, "At least you are not bleeding."

I nod, "Speedy and Green Arrow have…"

He grabs the three unconscious men and leads me out of the warehouse to where the traffickers are tied up and the Arrows are helping the victims, "Taken care of the rest."

He deposits the unconscious men and restrains them immediately. I nod and return my water-bearers to my water-pack, "Sir, if I may ask, why were you attempting to inspect me?"

"Your parents have informed me that you often attempt to be tough even when you are hurt or sick," he explains.

"I clearly had it handled."

He sighs, "I am going to worry about you, regardless."

"Especially as these types of mission have criminals who target individuals such as myself," I say.

He nods.

"You are aware that I am aware of the risks? Kidnapping, torture, rape, death. I have been over the possibilities many times with my matim and instructors. It will, however, be supremely difficult to accomplish any as they will usually need to touch me to do any and I am, effectively, a living taser."

"That may be, but you are still learning. I do not want you to be alone when you take on the enemies." He glowers, "Speedy should not have left you."

"He clearly wishes to be treated as an equal," I point out. "And I am capable of taking care of myself."

Annex Orin frowns, "You must be aware of your limitations, Kalladura'ham."

"I am."

"Really?"

"I am aware of my physical limitations, Annex, and that I have much to learn. I will be unable to learn those things if I am only watching though."

He eyes me.

I hesitate, "Apologies, sir, I did not mean to speak out of turn."

"I would not be a very good King if I did not allow my subjects freedom of expression. You make some good points. Points I didn't wish to acknowledge..."

I remain silent.

"And whether Speedy wants to be treated as an equal or not does not concern you. Focus on your own training."

I nod and salute him quickly.

"You alright?" Green Arrow questions.

I nod, "I am well. My skin is very dense."

Speedy is staring at the ground, clearly uncomfortable. I have no idea what to say to him.

"Sorry," he blurts out.

"Neither of us was harmed," I point out. "It is well."

As far as I am concerned, that is the end of it. He holds a different opinion.

When he winds up taking me on a tour of Star City I attempt to object to him paying for our lunch but he ignores me. Later, he explains that it's the least he could do for letting 'princess' wind up taking on some of the traffickers alone.

"I am not a princess," I object, partly because I am not a princess, I am a soldier, but mostly because only my patera has called me Princess and I am uncertain as to how I feel about someone else adopting that nickname.

Spee-Roy – he tells me to call him Roy when we're off-duty – snorts in response, "You hang out with a King. You're pretty close, Princess."

I resign myself to putting up with it.

* * *

**Gotham City, Connecticut : April 18, 2008 – 21:17 EDT**

"Annex?" I look hastily from Annex Orin over to Batman and Robin. All are motionless, staring at the water. I watch, uneasy, as four women who could only be described as ethereal rise from the water. They're followed by mist that rises from the water and they are making the most horrendous noise. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard, Styrofoam rubbing together, the screech of a cat and something else I cannot put my finger on. Annex, Batman and Robin are frozen by the women and the noise they are making.

No.

Oh _please_ no.

Why does it have to be Sirens? Why? That just…that is incredibly unhelpful.

I do not know a ton about Sirens from my studies. Only that once they start singing they will begin to pull those under their spell beneath the waves where their skeletons will rest forever.

Alright. Batman and Robin are my priority then. Annex can survive underwater and he should be able to shake off their song quicker than Batman and Robin by virtue of simply being Atlantean. Batman and Robin, on the other hand, stand no chance.

I grab Robin first, pulling him away from the tall Siren reaching out for him. The instant I grab him her nails lengthen into claws and her mouth opens wide as her pointed teeth extend into fangs and a horrendous deafening shriek erupts from her throat. I jump, pulling Robin into my arms and dart away from the water.

There was something about Sirens being very protective that I forgot.

She is going to kill me. _Wonderful._

Robin, thankfully, is barely fighting against me. I get to the top of the nearest building and promptly use his own grappling hook to tie him to the stairwell, sincerely hoping that he will not be able to get out. I turn, intending on grabbing Batman but promptly reel backwards as the Siren lunges toward me with a shriek that assaults my eardrums exploding from her mouth. Her grotesque face heads straight for my own, likely intending on swallowing my head whole.

I duck and grab her arm then roll underneath her body, keeping her from slamming straight into Robin and instead causing her to flip over and land on her back. Her arm should have broken when I grabbed it and twisted it like that. It didn't.

I pull her off the ground and throw her across the roof. She hits the edge of the roof, dislodging a chunk of concrete, and flips over the edge, plummeting to the ground. I do not bother to concern myself with her well-being, merely leap off the roof myself and roll the instant my feet hit the ground. I sprint towards the bay, twisting as I pull out my water-bearers to grab some water from the bay and whip it around to impact directly with the Siren slowly standing at the base of the building I have Robin restrained atop of. I pull the water back towards me, grabbing the Siren with the water, and twist again to face the bay. The Siren ensconced in water careens straight into the bay with me following.

Batman is already up to his chest in the water.

Nonononononono.

"CREEEEEE!"

I duck. The Siren's clawed swipe hits air as I put my left water-bearer back into my water-pack. I grab her arm with my left hand and slam my knee into her gut before twisting her arm towards her back and slamming the hand holding my water-bearer against her elbow. Instantly her elbow breaks and I kick her in the back of the knee sending her crashing to the ground. I dart past the next Siren and dive beneath the water.

Batman is underwater and has no breathing apparatus. Badbadbadbadbadbad. Primary target.

Annex is also underwater but he can breathe underwater. Secondary target.

More Sirens underwater. Nononononono.

My channels glow as I separate the water directly above Batman's head and create a bubble of air around his head. A Siren claws across my face and I grab Batman's shoulder, twisting over him to kick one of the Sirens attempting to grab him and pull him deeper underwater. Claws rake across my feet and I respond by kicking the Siren in the face before snapping my water-bearer away from Batman's head and grabbing a Siren with a water-whip to chuck her across the bay. As quickly as possible I return my water-bearer to Batman's head and reform the air bubble. I readjust my position and wrap my free arm around his chest, keeping his back to my chest. Swiftly, I kick another Siren and shoot us straight for land.

We explode out of the water and I am forced to snap my water-bearer down to our feet to shoot a blast of water at the two sirens that managed to grab mine and Batman's legs.

For a moment, we are flying.

The moment ends just as quickly and I twist, throwing Batman above me. I hit the ground on my heels and roll backwards, dropping my water-bearer for a second as I launch myself forward and narrowly manage to catch Batman before he hits the ground headfirst. Then I'm ducking and grabbing my water-bearer and awkwardly pulling Batman over my shoulders and sprinting for the building I had restrained Robin on top of and leaping to the top of the building and again thinking that I am _going to die why does this always happen to me why._

Batman is an adult male with a comparably large build. I am a thirteen-year-old girl who is on the larger end of the size spectrum but is still not 6'2" and is closer to 100lbs instead of 200lbs. It is not Batman's weight that is the problem. It is his build. He is physically too large for someone of my size to carry easily.

Wait. Waitwaitwaitwaitwait.

I stop abruptly and then dart back to the edge of the roof. There are more men. There are more human men being lured by the song of the Sirens into the water. Underwater. Where they cannot breathe.

Oh no. No. Please no.

I need backup. I need backup of the highest degree. Preferably, backup that can survive underwater.

Swiftly I lash Batman to the stairwell with his own grappling hook while dodging a dazed punch that is remarkably un-Batman-like. As I dart back to the water I hastily activate my com-link to Atlantis, "Aqualass to Atlantis."

I hear a scuffle and then a woman answers, ::: Aqualass, it is Mera, what is it? :::

"There are Sirens attacking Gotham Bay. I require assistance."

::: Oh no, okay, I am contacting a squad now. Is Orin… :::

"I have been unable to get him. My priority was Batman and Robin."

::: Understood. Captain Hussal's squad's ETA ten minutes. I will be there in twenty. :::

"I will be unable to retrieve Annex soon. There are other humans that are being lured under."

::: Focus on the surface-dwellers. My husband will be able to survive for longer. :::

"Understood, Anassa."

::: Good luck. :::

I stop ankle-deep in the water and hold my water-bearers out to the bay.

Just focus, Kalla. Focus. There is no way you can save each of the humans individually without at least some of them drowning. You have to get rid of the water.

Focus.

Focus.

_Focus._

I can feel sweat beading on my flesh and my blood surging through my veins. I clench my eyes shut and grit my teeth as the light emanating from my channels becomes blinding. Blood is dripping from my nose, getting into my mouth as the scar from Ocean Master's trident on my shin reopens just like the scar on my arm. It is as if I ignored my weakness to fire and plunged my hands into flames and oh Poseidon...

It hurts. It _hurts_.

Every noise is muffled. It takes me a moment to realize that I am the one screaming as water rises from the bay, floating up into the sky as trillions of droplets of liquid melding together and separating, displaying the bay floor as the few boats suddenly find themselves resting on rock and sand and not water. Vaguely, I can hear the Sirens shrieking.

I dig my toes into the ground, creating indentations. A clawed hand wraps around my arm and attempts to pull me to the ground. I strengthen my stance as another hand joins the fray. I can feel blood dripping across my arms and claws digging into my sides.

It hurts. It _hurts._

I force my eyes open and ignore my body's magical limitations as I send a surge of my self-energy through my channels. Electricity erupts off my channels and I can feel pieces of my skin being burnt as the energy courses across my torso and legs and face and it hurts _ohPoseidonithurts._

Focus Kalla. Focus.

::: Do not touch her! She'll electrocute you! :::

I can hear Sirens shrieking. I can hear people screaming. I cannot feel their claws against my flesh. I cannot feel the electricity burning my skin. I can see, although it is blurry, the squad Anassa sent is attacking the Sirens and pulling the humans out of the bay. I can see the water of the bay hovering nine feet above the bay and the sea appears to have a wall keeping it from slamming into the bay. I can see the soldiers shouting. I can see the soldiers fighting and shooting and bringing the Sirens down just as they were trained. Unlike me. I was not trained to take Sirens down. Captain Hassul's squad was trained for that, as were all of the older female soldiers, and the other soldiers who were unaffected by Sirens. I have not reached that level yet. _Why have I not reached that level yet?_

I can see Anassa Mera. She is pulling a man with a tattered sports jacket and grey beard out of the fray and sending him back to shore. She is punching the Siren that is ripping Annex Orin's shirt. She is freeing her husband from the three Sirens that claimed him as their target. She is shouting an order and then suddenly she is in front of me and I cannot move. I cannot move. _I cannot move._

Am I crying? I think I am crying. Or...leaking or something.

"Aqualass."

Anassa Mera seems to be speaking in the middle of a storm. I can barely hear her.

"Kalladura'ham."

She is touching me. She is grabbing my hands and prying my fingers away from my water-bearers. She is ignoring the electricity that is sparking off my hands and simply channeling it herself. She is grabbing me and hugging me and pulling the excess energy away from me and into herself and her channels are glowing across her arms and her shoulders and her legs and her stomach and her back and her face and she can hold it, she can channel it, it doesn't hurt her. She is so much better than me.

"Let go. It is well, Kalladura'ham, you can let go. I promise."

So I do.

Abruptly, I shove Anassa Mera away from me and twist, landing on all fours and vomiting onto the concrete. My vomit is tinged with blood but I am not certain if the blood came from my nose or my mouth.

Anassa Mera rubs my back as I hack and cough, my entire body shaking from exertion and pain. I look, shaking, at my body, wincing as even breathing at the moment faintly adjusts my facial expression and tugs at the cuts and scrapes covering my face. Cuts streaked with blood litter my body. I look as though I have been attacked by some very hungry cats. My cuts sting and my nose is still bleeding and I know that my lips have cracked and I am reasonably certain that a chunk of my hair is missing. But I feel stronger now that I am not focusing on keeping all of that water airborne.

"Are-are they well?" I question, leaning back onto my knees and taking in a shaky deep breath.

Anassa Mera nods as the Healer from Captain Hussal's squad crouches in front of me and begins to attend to me.

"Robin and Batman got out of their restraints but you managed to keep them there long enough. They are still slightly dazed, however, as are the other men who were affected by the Sirens."

"Where were they from? I was not aware that Sirens frequented this area."

"They are from a group of Sirens that wish to spread the idea of Siren domination. They were last seen by Nova Scotia and somehow managed to keep their activities hidden until this sect reached Gotham."

"Oh."

"You have not been trained in how to fight Sirens, much less _these _Sirens, have you?"

"No, I did not receive that training before becoming Aqualass."

"That was an unfortunate oversight. We shall have to remedy that."

I nod, "That may be wise."

"Has your matim been trained in battling Sirens?"

"I do not believe so. She has never been a soldier," I explain, well aware of my matim's opinions of most soldiers. Negative opinions, mostly.

"She should probably be trained regardless. You will wind up a target for the Sirens after this."

I swallow, "My patera then…"

"Yes, but you cannot be at your home all the time. She should be trained. I will also ensure that they have some objects to help repel the song of the Sirens."

I raise my eyebrows then wince slightly as the Healer works on disinfecting a couple of the deeper cuts, "We have those?"

"They are experimental. In the past, earplugs worked well enough but the Sirens – particularly the Sirens that believe in Siren domination – have…expanded their repertoire. They can now lure by song, dance, scent…we still do not know all of their methods and the Sirens with us have either not been a part of the Siren domination culture at all or left a number of years ago. That culture and its members have changed quite a bit."

"What about surface-dwellers though? There must be something they can do to guard themselves."

Anassa sighs, "It has become a…a compulsion for most Sirens to do what they do. It takes years of restraint to break the compulsion. Very few, especially those in the Siren domination culture, can do it. Sirens are biologically built to send males to their deaths by luring them into their settlements. It is destructive, yes, and I will be holding these Sirens accountable for their actions because what they have done is _wrong_ and _despicable_ but it will take more than a quick fix to make it so that the Sirens stop."

"Then how...who do they kill when they cannot get any surface-dwellers?"

"We cannot patrol every single shore every single second, Kalladura'ham."

"…oh," I say softly and look at the ground.

"Anassa, we have their leader," a soldier reports.

I turn to glance at the soldier and immediately freeze. A Siren. A _Siren_. She is wearing a full-body suit that only leaves an opening for her fingers, feet, eyes, fins and gills to roam free. Her complexion is a mass of pale greens and blues that meld together to make her almost appear to be made of water herself. Her pale blue hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail Mohawk and though her eyes are large , bulbous and a mingling of pastel blue and off-white – far from the traditional notion of beautiful that most surface-dwellers adhere to – they emphasize her ethereal presence and build off her long nails, large gills, androgynous body and the mist that seems to follow her wherever she goes. Her eyes turn her from merely an attractive female into an impossibly, ethereally gorgeous creature. Suddenly, the rumours I heard of Sirens developing the ability to lure those usually not affected by Sirens to their deaths do not seem quite as far-fetched. At the very least, she would be able to do that. Maybe different Sirens can lure different types of people?

"Thank-you Linanna'al," Anassa Mera says, rising. She nods to me, "Give yourself time to heal. I am certain that Batman, Robin and Orin will wish to speak to you."

I nod in understanding and silently turn back to the Healer. She smiles at me warmly although I am certain that she wishes she could be underwater right now instead of remaining on the surface.

~"Considering that the Sirens attacked you while you were controlling far too much water than you should physically be able to, your wounds are minor,"~ she explains in Atlantean. ~"I am Zesan'a, by the way."~

~"Thank you,"~ I murmur in the same language, watching as she repairs the cuts made at the edge of my channels from my self-energy.

~"I am going to wrap your channels so you will be off-duty for about a week until your channels heal."~ She pauses, tilting her head as she pulls out her set of bandages and begins wrapping my arms, ~"I have never seen channels like yours before."~

~"They are artificial. I was not born with biological channels so my matim created some artificial ones for me."~

~"Smart woman. I will write out some instructions for you – you'll have to get someone else to change your bandages for you – and you need to follow them to the character. Your channels should be fully healed in a week and by then so will most of your other wounds. So, I am taking you off-duty as Aqualass and I am removing you from physical and sorcery training for a week. Once the week is up you will be working on physical rehabilitation. I do not want to hear a word of you disregarding my instructions. I will hear if you are because you will be attended to by the Royal Physician if my hunch is correct and that physician is my cousin. He will tell me. Also, Annex Orin will be receiving a set of these because he is your primary trainer and mentor. Understood?"~

I get the feeling that she has spoken to either my parents or Anassa or Annex and has learned of my tendency to ignore when I am sick or wounded in favour of completing other things. For my own safety – I do not wish to consider what will happen to me if my parents, Anassa or Annex discover I am disregarding Healer Zesan'a's orders – I nod.

~"Say that you understand and that you will follow my instructions to the character,"~ she orders.

~"I understand and I will follow your instructions to the character."~

Healer Zesan'a seems satisfied with that and seals the bandages on my left arm. My arms look as though they belong to a mummy. _Wonderful._

"This is becoming a habit," Annex Orin says after Healer Zesan'a hands him the instructions for my healing. She hands me my healing instructions and then retreats swiftly, heading towards the less-wounded soldiers. I raise a quizzical eyebrow at Annex. He explains, "You taking on enemies by yourself."

I shrug in response, "I suppose so."

"I am incredibly sorry, if I was aware of the Sirens I would have defended myself, as well as Batman and Robin, against them," he says, helping me to my feet.

I glance down at myself. I am still sore all over, my head is still pounding, the blood from my nose has crusted over my nostrils and top lip and my arms are covered in bandages. I suppose saying that I am well would be an obvious lie. Honestly, I wish to sleep. Possibly read. Preferably about Sirens.

"That was so awesome," Robin gushes, darting forward. "You controlled all of the water! Can you do that all the time?"

"I am afraid not. If I were to do that again I fear I may kill myself in the process."

"Oh. Yeah, don't do that again then."

"I will not, I assure you."

"Good. You know, you could have called the League."

"There are few Leaguers who are capable of breathing underwater and have fought Sirens," I point out. "Atlantis has soldiers trained to fight Sirens." I gesture to said soldiers, a few of whom are interrogating one of the Sirens underwater, some more who are being healed on land and then heading back underwater. "I figured it would be best to contact them."

Robin nods, "Cool. So you gonna be okay?"

"I will be. I have received orders to remain off-duty for a week though, while my arms heal. Are you well?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Some cuts, that's it. I – we – got off better than you thanks to you."

"I did what I had to."

"Thanks."

"You are well, ah, mentally…I suppose?"

Even through his domino mask I can tell that Robin is looking at me oddly, "Yeah, I mean it was weird when I couldn't control my body and was just listening to them singing but…yeah. It was weird but I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

I lick my lips, suddenly aware that he only knows the surface-world's legends of Sirens. He does not even know Atlantis' Siren legends as well as I do, and though I do not know them particularly well I do know the basics and the basics…are not pleasant. I suppose, at this point, right now, he does not have to know. Perhaps I will tell him in the future. I am certain that Annex will inform Batman now.

"What happened to your arms?" Robin questions, breaking my chain of thought.

"Oh, I, when I was using my sorcery I lost control, burning parts of my arms and making the seam between my channels and flesh bleed. They should be healed in a week."

"That stinks. And we were onto something with that sign, I know it," Robin glances back at the picture of a catfish painted on one of the walls by the bay.

I shrug, "I believe it is a symbol used by the street people. It means that there is a kind older woman in that place."

"Huh, never seen that one. But, it's a warehouse. Why would a 'kind older woman' live there?"

"I may be translating it wrong," I lie. "It has been a long time since I have had to use those signs."

He looks at me thoughtfully and I silently scold myself for mentioning my time living on the surface.

"You were homeless?"

I shrug, remaining silent.

Robin frowns but thankfully does not pry. I do not know how much of my childhood my parents would be comfortable with me sharing. In particular with Robin.

I do wonder why that particular sign would be on that wall though. It seems an odd place to put it.

* * *

**A/N: **Just realized that I messed up the time zone for Poseidonis and Shayeris (okay, not so much for Shayeris b/c I didn't know it when I wrote the Shayeris scene, but I digress). It's apparently supposed to be UTC-02, not UTC-03. We shall ignore this inaccuracy b/c (a) this is about a genderbent Kaldur, canon is not a huge issue with this story, and (b) I am lazy and don't feel like going back and changing it. It isn't a majorly destructive difference. Instead of those cities being in Eastern Atlantic they're in Centralish Atlantic. At least they are in the same ocean and I put them in the same time zone, which, canonically they are supposed to be. How's that for luck?

I've created my own mishmashed Siren mythology which evolves with time like most mythologies and will have some mistaken 'facts'. Obviously, Kalla – mainly because of her age – doesn't know much of it beyond the "boogeyman" style Atlantean stories but I figure that Mera and Orin are quite well-versed in the facts of Sirens and similar creatures.

Next Kalla chapter will have Wally and, if all goes according to plan, Calvin's surface-family!

**R&R  
**


	4. Kalladura'ham 3

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, as well as Harry Potter and Disney, are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): discussion of classism, mentions of racism, coarse language**_

_**Edit: 04/02/13**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Sisters don't need words. They have perfected a language of snarls and smiles and frowns and winks – expressions of shocked surprise and incredulity and disbelief. Sniffs and snorts and gasps and sighs – that can undermine any tale you're telling."_

Pam Brown

* * *

**3**

**Atlantean Embassy, Washington D.C. : September 15, 2008 – 12:13 EDT**

They are late.

They have superspeed and they are late.

I am attempting to hide my annoyance with their tardiness because Annex Orin and Ambassador Ges'ark do not seem bothered by it. But it is a peeve of mine. They were supposed to be here for the meal at 12 o'clock. It is nearly a quarter past and I know that there is nothing criminal going on in Central City at the moment. I checked when I went to the bathroom.

Annex and Ambassador Ges'ark seem to be considering being absolutely horrid and telling Flash and his brand new protégé that Atlanteans do not eat fish. That is idiotic. What else is there to eat in Atlantis? Seaweed? Kelp? We cannot get enough protein merely from seaweed and kelp. We need to eat fish and, frankly, I am astounded by the sheer amount of surface-dwellers who seem to be under the impression that all Atlanteans are vegetarians.

We are not. Nor do we, well, people like myself, speak to fish. Not telepathically at least.

The only things I do not eat are shark, whale, squid and octopus. King Sha'ark of the city-state Nanauve is part-shark, Blubber is part-whale and Topo is essentially an anthropomorphized squid.

I eat a lot of shellfish, come to think of it.

"Orin, hey!"

I twist sharply in my chair, bored out of my mind and staring at my plate. The Flash is moving towards Annex Orin and Ambassador Ges'ark in all of his bright red glory. I stand quickly as a boy who looks about my own age enters the room behind Flash. He has a mop of red hair that's wildly windblown – presumably from running – and has a pair of red goggles resting atop his head. The top half of his uniform is yellow while the bottom remains the same red as his mentor's. He is lanky, not quite yet having grown into his feet and limbs, and has some extra padding on his uniform, guarding him from injuries that could occur when one runs at high speeds. An easy grin spreads across his face in stark contrast to his gangly body as I move to greet him and his mentor.

"Flash, sir, it is delightful to see you again," I say, quickly shaking the hero's hand firmly after Ambassador Ges'ark and Annex Orin finishing greeting Flash.

He grins at me, "Aqualass, saw you take out those robbers. Nice job."

I avert my eyes quickly, embarrassed by the attention, and nod, "Thank you sir, but if it was not for Annex's plan it would not have ended as happily as it did."

"You're so modest, kid," Flash says and I notice for the first time that he seems slightly tired. He gestures back – yes, definitely wearily – and the redhead boy moves forward immediately, "This is Kid Flash, my sidekick."

I feel a twinge of anxiety as I face the boy who was, presumably, the cause of Flash's weariness. I quickly hide my anxiety behind a professional mask and hold my hand out to Kid Flash in the expected surface-world greeting. Before I get a chance to get a word out he tilts his head and his grin shifts into a smirk as he says, "Aqualicious…you're even more gorgeous in person."

I freeze.

…

What.

Aqualicious?

I…what am I supposed to say to that? He does realize that my name is Aqualass, right?

"It is an honour to meet you, Kid Flash," I say, suddenly aware of the fact that Flash is occupying Annex Orin's attention and Ambassador Ges'ark is speaking to someone about bringing out the first course and I have _no idea how to react to this. _I hold my hand out to him more forcefully and plaster a small smile on my face.

"A handshake?" Kid Flash seems disappointed. He smiles, spreading his arms wide, "We're gonna be working together, Beautiful. Relying on each other. Don't you think a hug would be better?"

A…hug? But…what? I…what? I do not understand. Is this a surface-world thing that my cousins and parents and Annex Orin failed to educate me on? Is this merely a Kid Flash thing? Is this a male thing?

What?

And 'Beautiful'? My name is Aqualass!

"I…suppose," I relent, lowering my hand. What else am I supposed to do? I do not wish to offend him and possibly jeopardize the Atlantis-Flash working relationship. He grins and promptly hugs me tightly around the waist, somehow managing to lift me off the ground in the process.

I turn when he lets me down and find myself staring at Annex Orin – who is shooting me an odd look – and Flash – who just looks exasperated – sitting at the table. I move to grab my chair but a blur passes in front of me and in the next instant Kid Flash is there, grinning, holding my chair out for me and gesturing for me to take a seat. He mock bows, "Milady."

"I can lift cars. I can move a chair," I point out but take a seat regardless and pull it in before he gets a chance to try and push it in for me.

"Which is one of the coolest things _ever_," he gushes, sitting next to me as Ambassador Ges'ark watches the exchange with a raised eyebrow.

I quickly straighten my posture, noting that Kid Flash does no such thing despite being at a table with an Ambassador and a King, and wait as the first course is brought out. Kid Flash is practically salivating at the sight. What, does Flash starve him or something?

It is apparent as we reach the third course that while both Flashes are capable of eating enough to feed a small family, it is the sidekick of the pair that eats like a garbage disposal. I twitch every single time some food winds up spraying on my arm or face. A piece of meat landed in my water glass. I had to use some sorcery to pull it out and put it quietly and quickly back on Kid Flash's plate. At least Flash has some self-control and doesn't inhale everything placed in front of him within the first five minutes of eating the course. It is disgusting, watching Kid Flash eat. I eat a fraction of what I normally do, unable to stomach the sight of Kid Flash eating, interspersed with attempts to befriend me while brashly disrespecting the fact that he is eating at a table with a King and Ambassador and ignoring the fact that my name is Aqualass, not 'Beautiful', or 'Babe' or 'Gorgeous'.

He is attempting to flirt with me. It is not going well from my point of view, seeing as no matter how many times I interject that my name is 'Aqualass' he continues to refer to me based on various adjectives that describe my appearance. From his point of view, it apparently appears to be going well, seeing as he has yet to stop.

The final course comes and goes and I nearly snap my spoon in my grip.

I am ready to hurt someone.

Preferably, the boy sitting next to me, moaning about how good the food was.

_Shut up._

"Babe-"

I tense while standing and we go through the traditional motions post-meal, the discussions on the safety, yes, Aquaman and Aqualass are prepared to support the Flashes, as is Atlantis, and vice-versa.

"Beautiful-"

"My name is Aqualass," I cut Kid Flash off before he can continue speaking. I am ready to punch him, but that would be unseemly and impolite, especially considering the company.

"Yeah, I know," he gives me an odd look, then gestures again to the world map, "So, Beautiful, this-"

"No." I exhale, forcing myself not to grit my teeth, "Call me Aqualass."

He blinks. He looks confused.

"Aqualass, not 'Beautiful' or 'Babe' or 'Gorgeous' and especially not 'Aqualicious'," I am on a roll now, "I wish to be called by _my name_, not by adjectives emphasizing how I look, which, contrary to popular belief, has absolutely no bearing on how well I do _my job_."

Stupid magazines and blogs. Stupid stupid stupid.

He looks startled.

"It makes me uncomfortable and I-" I stop, suddenly aware of how in-his-face I was and how alarmed he looks. I pull backwards and hastily apologize, "My apologies, I did not mean to…" I trail off. I have no idea what I did not mean to do. I meant to do exactly what I did. Why am I apologizing?

"I…" Kid Flash rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "Sorry. I totally didn't mean to…er…insult you. I just thought I…wait. I've been calling you 'Babe' and stuff the entire time. That _must have_ pissed you off, why didn't you say anything sooner? I totally didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He holds up his hands, palms facing me, "I swear I didn't mean to do that."

My eye is twitching.

How can he be taking this so well? Every other time I've objected to how people treated me – mainly those classmates who called me impure – well, a group of them managed to break one of my fingers when I was a kid! They never stopped. They never apologized. No one in the surface media apologized when they got sights of me and Annex made the official announcement of his sidekick to the surface-world and then they attacked like _vultures, _criticizing the fact that I was a girl in the 'boys' club' of superheroing and a _kid_ at that. Insulting my parents, my patera in particular, for permitting me to go fight crime. As if my patera could stop me once I got it in my head that I was going to do something.

How can Kid Flash…

"You are…sorry?" I repeat, blinking blankly because I have no idea how to react. None whatsoever.

I was ready to back down – I _was_ backing down. I was ready to defend myself. I was not ready for this.

He lowers his hands, "Well, yeah." He shrugs, as if it's no big deal.

"O…kay…" I trail off, confused.

"What? Said that to other guys and they didn't apologize?" Kid Flash laughs.

"Not in the same situation, but, yes."

He stops laughing. His eyes widen, "You're serious."

I am uncertain as to what the big deal is. It is a part of life. You just deal with it, as with everything else.

"I am," I confirm.

"Some guy was hitting on you and even when you told him to stop he didn't stop?" Kid Flash questions, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, it was – is – not exactly that situation but-"

"Give me the guy's name and I'll give him a little talking to," Kid Flash demands, cracking his knuckles.

I raise an eyebrow disbelievingly, "Right." I turn back to the map, "That will not be necessary. It is being handled."

He doesn't look convinced, but nods, "Kay. So," he turns to the map which notes most Atlantean city-states, "where do you live?"

"Currently, I reside in the capitol, Poseidonis, while continuing my training," I point to the location, "but I used to live in Shayeris with my matim – that means 'mother – and patera – that mean's father."

* * *

**Sender:** knightlight  
**Date:** Mon, 15 Sept 2008 17:13:07 –0400  
**From:** Kalladura'ham D  
**Organization:** Angelia Graphikos  
**To:** glorigrrrl72  
**Subject:** Thought you would find this interesting

P,

Stop smirking. I know you predicted there would be more protégés. You do not need to rub it in.

Would you like to know the first thing he said to me? _Would you like to know?_

"_Aqualicious…you're even more gorgeous in person."_

And then he demanded a hug instead of a handshake.

It was awkward. I spent the rest of the meal restraining myself from shouting at him whenever he referred to me as 'babe' or 'beautiful' or 'gorgeous' or 'Aqualicious'. It took me until after the meal to finally tell him to stop. He actually stopped. I…was more surprised by it then he apparently expected me to be.

It was odd.

-K

oOoOo

**Sender:** glorigrrrl72  
**Date:** Tues, 16 Sept 2008 20:03:54 –0400  
**From:** Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization:** u-Mail  
**To:** knightlight  
**Subject: Re:** Thought you would find this interesting

Jeez, Cuz, that must have been the most awkward meal EVER. How come it took you so long to tell him? I've seen him on the news, he seems pretty easy-going.

Who calls their co-worker 'babe'? That's just stupid.

When r u visiting? I miss u…:( We need to have another HP marathon. We'll watch GoF twice. Come on K, I know you can't resist that.

;P

oOoOo

**Sender:** knightlight  
**Date:** Tues, 30 Sept 2008 16:54:17 –0400  
**From:** Kalladura'ham D  
**Organization:** Angelia Graphikos  
**To:** glorigrrrl72  
**Subject:** Visit

P,

I am around royalty too much. It is viewed inappropriate then to object.

I might be able to visit the middle of next month. I'll email you later with a time after I talk to Arthur.

Also, those merpeople are ridiculous. Their language makes absolutely no sense, even underwater.

-K

oOoOo

**Sender:** glorigrrrl72  
**Date:** Thurs, 2 Oct 2008 15:19:22 –0400  
**From:** Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization:** u-Mail  
**To:** knightlight  
**Subject: Re:** Visit

Dude, come for Halloween. You could dress-up as yourself! And I could be Arthur! It'd be hilarious!

Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.

You're calling those merpeople ridiculous? You put the freaking TV underwater to try and make them make sense! You aren't siriusly calling them ridiculous. Why do you keep on forgetting our tech isn't waterproof?

;P

oOoOo

**Sender:** knightlight  
**Date:** Fri, 10 Oct 2008 18:07:26 –0300  
**From:** Kalladura'ham D  
**Organization:** Angelia Graphikos  
**To:** glorigrrrl72  
**Subject:** Birthday

P,

It seems I will be unable to make it for Halloween, though that would have been awesome. You could dress up as me or Arthur anyway if you wish. I could even send you a shirt.

By the way, what would you like for your birthday?

Your tech should be waterproof. Most of the planet is water anyway, it's only logical. And stop using 'siriusly' in place of 'seriously' it lost its charm like, three months ago. Seriously.

-K

oOoOo

**Sender:** glorigrrrl72  
**Date:** Sun, 12 Oct 2008 19:31:52 –0400  
**From:** Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization:** u-Mail  
**To:** knightlight  
**Subject: Re:** Birthday

You! I want _you_ to come for my birthday girl! I'll even not have ice-cream cake this time and get you some of that rainbow sherbert stuff you love. Make it happen, K. _The birthday girl demands it._

Yes, please, send me a shirt. I'm totally being you for Halloween. I'll send some pictures!

Since when have we claimed to be logical? And 'siriusly' is my thing. Like your thing is trying to be obnoxiously grammatically correct in every language you know in an attempt to overcome your issues with being so close to super-powerful-ppl who, for some reason, u think u shouldn't be around. Siriusly, what is up with that?

;P

oOoOo

**Sender:** knightlight  
**Date:** Mon, 20 Oct 2008 17:24:08 -0300  
**From:** Kalldura'ham D  
**Organization:** Angelia Graphikos  
**To:** glorigrrrl72  
**Subject:** Seriously?

P,

I have my reasons for talking like I do, you know that. I can use conjunctions, I merely prefer not to. I was not born in a high-class therefore I do not naturally belong there, that is where my "issues with being so close to super-powerful-ppl" comes from. It is a 'thing' in my society.

I still do not know if I will make it for your birthday, but I will send you a gift regardless.

-K

oOoOo

**Sender:** glorigrrrl72  
**Date:** Sun, 2 Nov 2008 17:42:48 –0400  
**From:** Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization:** u-Mail  
**To:** knightlight  
**Subject:** Photos!

You belong to about three different societies K. You can't use that as an excuse. Especially when you're not in "your" society. You're pulling BS courtesy of "your" classist society. Me no likey BS…or classism for that matter. Are people telling you that you don't belong or other BS even though you're freaking…A-wesome and the Top Fish are all in on your belonging? Siriusly, if they're saying that then I'm coming down there and knocking in heads because u belong in there more than most of they do.

Look at the photos. Look at them. I look awesome. Thanks for the shirt!

R u coming for my b-day or not? Siriusly, K, I've gotta plan for this thing. Need to know if I need food for lactose intolerants and can do stuff that doesn't involve water thanks to u, u hydrophobic grrl.

FYI, I joined the journalism club at school. It's gonna be awesome.

;P

P.S. B-day. B-day. B-day. B-day. B-day. . _Come._

Attached: [PHOTO: a 13-year-old girl with a dark complexion, dark eyes and soft cheekbones with her braided black hair held away from her face with a wide blue headband which reveals the make-up applied to make gills appear to be on her neck is wearing a red, scaled, thick-strapped, scoop-necked tank top with black detailing and a pair of black wetsuit-style pants with obviously handmade black fins sticking out of the backs of her lower legs similar to the handmade fins attached to her forearms. She is posing in a classic body-builder pose in front of a display of Jack-O-Lanterns littered with red, yellow and orange leaves.]

[PHOTO: the same girl in the same costume with her back to the camera but her head is twisted so that the viewer can see her smirking proudly.]

[PHOTO: the same girl in the same costume – although lacking her right forearm fin – carrying two pillowcases filled with candy. She is flanked by a lean redhead with a pale complexion dressed as a frog, a petite dusky-complexioned brunette girl wearing a bright red ninja costume and a heavier girl with an olive complexion wearing a pink hijab and dressed as a zombie fairy. All three are carrying pillowcases filled with candy.]

oOoOo

**Sender:** knightlight  
**Date:** Tues, 4 Nov 2008 18:06:22 -0300  
**From:** Kalladura'ham D  
**Organization:** Angelia Graphikos  
**To:** glorigrrrl72  
**Subject: Re:** Photos!

P,

I will admit that it can get awkward during meetings and occasionally while training. It is not something to email about though.

You look fantastic, as do Rachel, Gabbi and Marija. How did Marija come up with the idea for a zombie fairy? Also, tell Gabbi that she must be a pretty fantastic ninja to accomplish her ninja activities while wearing bright red. Rachel has taken her love of frogs to new heights I see.

I will be coming up on the 15th and I can stay the weekend if that is alright with your parents. My parents will be unable to come though. They cannot leave the business again.

-K

oOoOo

**Sender:** glorigrrrl72  
**Date:** Sun, 2 Nov 2008 17:42:48 –0400  
**From:** Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization:** u-Mail  
**To:** knightlight  
**Subject:** Zombie Witches

Then I guess you'll have to explain when you get here, because this is just getting weird K and I don't like it.

Thanks! It was actually Gabbi who came up with the idea for a zombie fairy. She keeps on having these super weird dreams where this zombie witch keeps on rising from the dead and doing some awesome magic. What's really weird is that whenever she goes back to sleep her dream picks off where the last dream ended. Totally bizarre but totally cool. Think I've heard it called 'serial dreaming' or something. Gabbi is an awesome ninja BTW. She can pull off red.

Of course Rachel has. She was planning that costume for months, it turned out awesome.

The 'rents are cool with it. Come on the 15th and we'll party all weekend to celebrate me finally becoming the same age as you again. Tell me if you need a pick-up.

;P

* * *

**Toronto, Ontario : November 15, 2008 – 13:26 EDT**

"What are you reading?" Pansy Zeelie questions, sipping her multicoloured slurpee as she tilts her head, trying to get a look at the cover of the novel I picked off the shelf. She grimaces at the sight, "Ew. Werewolves? Bad choice, K. Bad choice."

"What is she reading?" Marija Spevec questions, a hardcover tucked under her arm. Her bright pink slurpee is still in her hand and still half full. I finished mine in five minutes. Marija remains jealous of my apparent immunity to brain freezes.

Atlantean physiology. Woot.

"That series with the werewolves."

"There are like…fifteen of those, Pan," Marija points out. "Which one?"

"The one with the ninjas."

"I didn't think they were terrible."

"Your taste in literature is shitty," Pansy argues. "I come to you for math, not English."

"Everything in here is incorrect anyway," I point out, closing the novel and returning it to its display. Apparently a film based on the novel is coming out soon. I move on to another shelf and start browsing. "Werewolves do not work like that."

"You know real werewolves?" Marija questions, unbothered by Pansy's belief in her taste of literature.

"I have heard of them."

"Well those are just stories, who says those weren't made up and are incorrect?"

I shrug and do not bother to correct her. I heard about werewolves from my matim after she interacted with a werewolf. Perhaps parts of it were incorrect but I know that if the werewolf did half of what they apparently did in that one page I read then Matim would have mentioned it.

Pansy shoots me an odd side look. She knows that usually when I speak of so-called mythological creatures I am speaking of them because they exist. It is not as if my parents and I could keep her and her family in the dark about our Atlantean heritage and, by extension, my status as Aqualass. When I do not return her look she looks nervously back at the door to the bookstore, presumably attempting to spot the moon to ensure that it is not full.

I pick up a biography on Cleopatra and begin to skim through it as Marija makes a noise in the back of her throat. She tugs the straw from where it got caught on one of her front teeth off and explains as I shoot her an odd look, "Rachel just texted me. She won't be able to make it. Her brother just broke his arm and she's sitting in the ER with him."

Pansy and I exchange wide-eyed looks. Marija frowns, inspecting her cell, "She says he's fine, well, except for the broken arm, obviously. It was a biking accident."

"Shit, hope the ER isn't a long wait," Pansy comments.

"He'll probably get a doctor pretty quick," Marija says. "Within eight hours I mean. It'd be worse if they weren't white I think. Like that Cree guy in Alberta. What was his wait time, 12 hours?"

Pansy glowers, "Something like that."

I do not comment. My experience with surface-world ER ends when I get victims into the hands of the doctors then I go back out and continue fighting. I am not even treated in Atlantean Emergency Wards. When I get wounded I am generally seen to by either the Royal Physician and Healer or the nearest Physician or Healer, on command of Annex or Anassa.

"Is Gabbi coming?" I question.

Pansy shakes her head, "Yeah, she's gonna be at my place around 6."

"I see."

"You found a book yet?" Marija questions, leaning forward to look at the book in my hand. "Cleopatra? Cool. Gonna buy it?"

"I suppose I may as well," I shrug. "You two are done as well? Pansy, you do not wish to purchase anything?"

"Mom forbade me from buying any books in the month before my birthday. She said if I did that then people would run out of b-day present ideas for me," Pansy shrugs. "I wanted a laptop this year though."

"Your parents are _not_ getting you a laptop for your birthday," Marija laughs. "There is just no way they'll do that."

"I know, and it sucks," Pansy complains, sticking out her tongue in annoyance.

I smirk and move past them to head to the cashier. Marija and Pansy follow quickly, laughing.

* * *

**Zeelie Residence, Toronto, Ontario : November 15, 2008 - 18:29 EDT**

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Paaaansy! Happy Birthday to you!"

Pansy leans forward, towards the chocolate cake cut and decorate to look like a giant donut, and blows across the fourteen candles stuck into the treat. All except one candle flame are extinguished. She frowns and her dad, Kaleb, laughs while my patera's sister, Pansy's mom, Peggy, teases, "Oooo you got one boyfriend there!"

Pansy pouts and leans forward to blow out that flame, "There! No secret boyfriends anymore!" She looks back at her 16-year-old brother, Kodi, with a smirk, "Unlike certain _other_ people I could mention."

He rolls his eyes at the reference to his unknown-till-a-month-ago boyfriend.

Marija chuckles, wielding her small pink digital camera with lethal accuracy as Kodi grabs the small gift covered in balloon-patterned wrapping paper and hands it to her. It's obviously a CD and, judging by the fact that Pansy ignores the actual gift and instead takes the card and reads it aloud obnoxiously slowly in an obvious attempt to annoy her brother she knows exactly what CD it is. With some prodding from Kodi and Gabbi she finally puts down the card and unwraps the CD to reveal the soundtrack to, what else, one of the Harry Potter films. She pushes it to the side and eagerly takes Gabbi's gift.

I got her a book, something which is wholly predictable of me, on the history of Western animation. She promptly drools over it, to my delight, and drags me to her side to get the pair of us in a photograph together. Rachel shows up when we're huddled in the Zeelie basement eating cake and attempting to figure out how to play the video game Gabbi got her.

"Is your brother okay?" Marija asks immediately as Rachel joins us in the basement, a plate of cake already in her hand.

"He'll be fine," Rachel nods. "Got a green cast out of it so he's happy."

"ER went fast," Pansy comments.

Rachel grimaces at the mention of the ER, "Faster than I thought, yeah, but I went straight from there to here so not _that_ fast." She tosses a bright blue gift bag to Pansy, "Here's your gift, by the way."

"Awesome!" Pansy dives on the gift immediately and tears it open.

"Do you know how to play Zombie Apocalypse II?" Gabbi questions as she knifes a zombie and in the process gets in my way, causing my character to die a zombie death. I shoot a glare at Gabbi. She huffs, "The only person who's any good at this game is Pansy."

"I am good at everything, Gabbi," Pansy boasts.

At the desktop computer behind us, Kodi snorts.

Pansy ignores him. Gabbi continues, shooting zombies while grabbing a handful of barbeque chips from the bag next to her, "Kalla sucks. She keeps charging into the zombies like she's invulnerable or something."

I keep forgetting that my characters do not have Atlantean physiologies. It is a problem.

"Then Mari is just plain _bad_," Gabbi continues.

"I am perfectly alright with being terrible at first-person shooters. I can still build a robot out of Lego," Marija says, taking a photograph of Pansy with Rachel's gift to her, consisting of a new poster of Wonder Woman and "official" Wonder Woman bracelets.

Rachel climbs over the couch and shoves herself in-between Gabbi and I, still eating her cake, "Yeah, I can play. But I'm eating cake. Cake comes first. God, Pan, your Mom is like…the best baker ever."

"She has a thing for cakes," Pansy shrugs, taking a gulp of her soda. "Likes decorating them. Should have seen the one she made for Kodi. It looked like a lime."

Rachel turns her head and questions Kodi, "Hey, Kodi, why'd you want a cake that looked like a lime?"

"Because limes are awesome."

"God, you're weird."

"You dressed up as a frog for Halloween."

"…your point?"

He doesn't bother answering.

"She made one for Kalla's birthday that looked like Ariel," Pansy laughs in remembrance, "You know, like from The Little Mermaid?"

I scowl at the memory. I hate that movie. The filmmakers knew that Atlantis existed then and created a terrible representation not only of underwater kingdoms – there is a city-state called Atlantica, by the way – but also of our people, especially our monarchs. Terrible film. Made everyone who looks like Topo be seen as evil, and removed all of the diversity we have amongst our people, not to mention made our monarchs seem to be either bigoted or horrendously selfish and irresponsible.

Aunt Peggy had been trying to do something nice, I realize that, but it backfired. Magnificently. I was insulted, Matim was insulted, and Patera wound up playing mediator while Matim and I fumed.

"That must have been awesome," Rachel gushes. "I wanted to be Ariel when I was a kid."

"Belle for me," Marija said. "I was always jealous of the fact that she got free books."

"I _know_, right?" Pansy grins. "Meg was my favourite."

"You _would_ love Meg," Rachel laughs.

"I wanted to be Aladdin," Gabbi grins. "He had a _genie_. I wanted a genie."

"Dude, _yes._ Aladdin too. But Meg hung out with Gods," Pansy argues. "Oh, and Simba and Nala. They were awesome."

"The Lion King was just awesome. Period," Gabbi points out as I exchange my controller for Rachel's empty plate and she begins playing instead. I grab my own soda and tuck my feet underneath me, unbothered by the others seeing my webbing – Pansy had explained years ago that the webbing was something I was born with, an anomaly of sorts.

"Who was your favourite Disney character, Kalla?" Marija questions.

"Er…"

"Not Ariel," Pansy snorts, nearly coughing up her mouthful of soda. "God-" cough, "you-" she clears her throat, her eyes watering from the soda presumably going down the wrong tube, "you hated Ariel so much!"

"What? Why?" Rachel questions as she shoots a zombie in the face.

"I…disliked their portrayal of Atlantis."

"It was Atlantica though. I don't think it was supposed to be like Atlantis."

"There is a place in Atlantis called Atlantica and the filmmakers knew of Atlantis when they were creating the film," I argue, sinking lower on the couch.

"Seriously?" Rachel glances at me, surprised.

"Yes."

"Huh. Well that was stupid of them. Wait, so Pansy's Mom made you a birthday cake of Ariel and you hated her?"

"She was unaware of my opinion of Ariel at the time."

Rachel snorts, "Well that was a screw-up."

"Have you seen Pocahontas, K?" asks Pansy. "You'd probably like her."

"I do not believe I have seen Pocahontas," I shake my head.

"You are deprived," Rachel decides. "I mean, they totally screwed up the story of Pocahontas and the culture and stuff, but Pocahontas herself was cool. And Meeko. Meeko was awesome. So was Flick, and her Dad and…I like that movie."

"You'd like Mulan too," Pansy adds. "You've seen Mulan, right?"

"Yes. I do enjoy her character," I confirm. "She is a good soldier, albeit a bit…less than willing to follow orders, especially considering she engaged in a relationship with a superior officer, which isn't done in any military I know of."

"Well duh," Pansy rolls her eyes, grabbing a handful of chips from the nearest bag. "She dressed up as a dude and entered the army when women weren't allowed to be soldiers. Of course she didn't like orders. You need to see Pocahontas though, you'd love her. She puts her people first, not going off with the g-"

"Spoilers!" Gabbi exclaims. "You can't spoil the ending for her!"

Pansy's eyes widen, "Right! Sorry K. Forget I said anything. We'll watch Pocahontas later."

"If you wish."

"You're really formal, you know that?" Marija comments, fiddling with her camera.

"…yes?"

"It's cool."

"Yeah," Rachel grins, "every time after you come here and we hang out my English mark goes up. It's awesome."

"I am glad I could help."

"Just don't enroll in my English class. You'll make me look awful."

I smirk, "Noted."

**23:16 EDT**

I lean against the couch, flipping through the teen girl magazine _Essence_ and amusing myself by reading an article on the introduction of Aqualass as Aquaman's official sidekick and looking at the various surface-world fashions while munching on the remaining chips. Pansy is sprawled out across the couch with her quilt wrapped around her like a cocoon, and is flipping through the special features on the DVD of Pocahontas. She was correct. I liked the titular character despite the obvious rampant disregard for the facts of Pocahontas and her culture, which was irritating, but at least the titular character was aware of and respected her duties to her people.

Rachel, Marija and Gabbi had all left around two hours ago to let Pansy and I, in Gabbi's words, "cousin-bond". The fact that Gabbi had to look after her younger siblings the next morning wasn't mentioned. Nor was Rachel's concern for her brother and Marija's eagerness to get to work as soon as possible on brainstorming for the Engineering Club's new creation.

"So," Pansy begins, letting the remote fall back to one of the coffee tables, "you gonna tell me what that shit about not being good enough is about? 'Cause you are good enough, you know that right?"

"Yes, I know," I protest, reading about how to achieve a smoky eye as I tug my borrowed quilt tighter over my knees. "I am simply not suited for the nobility."

I can feel Pansy giving me _The Look_ before she states, "That's a load of BS, K."

"I was not born into nobility. I was born homeless and in hiding from some…negative force my matim never specified."

I hear Pansy roll over to face me completely, "Seriously, K, just 'cause you weren't born into nobility doesn't mean you don't deserve to be in or belong in nobility. You talk like a Queen and should be treated like one, I mean seriously girl. And I know you talk like that just to make everyone believe you belong in nobility so don't go telling me that you don't want to be in a position of power like that."

My grip on the magazine grows tighter, "I don't."

"What'd I just say?"

"I'm telling the truth!" I protest. Quickly, I lower my voice so as not to wake anyone else in the house up and explain, my control over my language slipping quickly, "I do not want to be in a position of power like that. I mean, people's lives would rest in my hands and I'm not good enough to be trusted with something like that."

"Maybe not now, I mean, you're still pretty new to this whole hero thing," she waves her hands vaguely, the light from the television glinting off her Wonder Woman bracelets, "but put a few years under your belt and you'll have the knowhow. Come on," she props herself up on her elbows, "this classist stuff is a load of shit and you know it. You've hung around people in the lowest classes and in the highest classes and everything in-between and you're trying to tell me that those people couldn't be in other classes pretty easily?"

I lick my lips, aware that she is correct, but keep my eyes focused on the carpet right in front of the television, "No, of course not."

"So you agree that people in the lowest classes could be leaders. Like Joa and them."

"Yes, Joa could be a leader."

"And your Mom and Dad?"

"Yes, but I-"

"But nothing, you've got _skills_ Kalla. You've got the drive to see it all through." She sighs, "Remember what you told me you wanted to be when we were ten?"

I tense and bring my bare knees closer to my chest, "A General."

"A General! Girl, you wanted to be _a General_ and I can see it in your eyes, you _still _wanna be one and you're working towards that now!"

"I was young. I did not have the knowledge I do now."

"Beepbeepbeep! My BS detector is freaking out. Now you're just making excuses K."

I frown and crane my neck to face Pansy, "If it wasn't for the nobility I wouldn't be where I am today. I owe the nobility _everything_."

Pansy's face twists into something nearly unrecognizable. She opens her mouth. She closes it. Opens. Closes. She splutters, "Wha-what?" She snaps, "That is the biggest load of-of-of _crap_ I've ever heard! It wasn't because of the nobility that you kept on waking up and immediately started going through your physical training! It wasn't because of the nobility that you started researching strategy, military history and the history of the superheroes! It wasn't because of the nobility that you got your hands on every possible weapon and learned how to use it! You did that all yourself! _You_ made yourself, not anyone else, and certainly not the nobility. Seriously, K, I'm beginning to think that you're just making excuses because you don't wanna take responsibility for the fact that you are _seriously badass_ and turned yourself into this kick-butt hero that makes flippin' Pocahontas and all those other Disney Princesses – even Meg and…no not Mulan, she's still badass and did like, the same thing you did, just with a trainer – whatever. You make them look like complete wimps! Your make the Princes look like complete wimps! Even Mufasa!"

I glare at her, "Maybe I do not want that kind of responsibility, Pansy."

Pansy frowns, "What do you mean?"

I glance at the ground, my grip on the magazine loosening, "The first time I tried being a hero, someone died. The first time I tried being a hero on the surface-world, I messed up. Then I nearly wound up leading a bunch of men to their deaths at the hands of a bunch of Sirens."

"So, what, do you not want to be a hero?"

"…I do not know. I…no…but…yes. I…I have no idea." I sigh, loudly, and fall back onto the pillow at the foot of the couch. I lift my hands into the air and gesture as I explain, "On the one hand, I love it. I love the rush I get from fighting, I love outsmarting the bad guys, I love the satisfaction from saving someone, I love feeling…strong and being recognized as strong. But…" I let my fists fall, my fingers brushing across the magazine, "then when I lose…when people nearly die…when people do die or get hurt." I hesitate, "I cannot help but feel as though failing once makes me terrible at my job and I should just be forbidden from ever being a hero again." I put my hands over my face, clenching my eyes shut.

For a long moment, Pansy doesn't speak. When she does, she questions softly, "If you were forbidden from being a hero ever again, what would you do?"

"I…I do not know."

"Would you be mad because you couldn't be a hero anymore? Would you be sad?"

"…" I press my lips together firmly, disliking the idea of not being a hero. I do not even wish to consider it.

"Just imagine that you weren't a hero. Is there anything else you would want to do?"

"…I suppose I could work for my matim's business."

"Would you enjoy it?"

I sigh, dragging my hands off my face, "No. I hate working there."

"But you can't think of anything else you'd rather do than be a hero, right?"

I recover my face with my hands, admitting, "…no."

"So be a hero. There are gonna be shitty times, K. I think that's just the nature of the job. But you can handle them. You've turned yourself into this totally badass chick and you can keep on being that badass chick for the rest of your life."

I chuckle, "How'd you get so smart?"

"By listening to you, mostly, and Marija."

I pull my hands off my face and let them rest on my stomach, atop the magazine. Pansy frowns, "Hey, wait, are you saying that I'm not usually smart?"

I attempt to keep a calm expression, "No, of course not, I would never-"

"You might have those other sidekicks fooled but girl I've seen you on your worst days. You so meant it!" Pansy grabs the nearest pillow and hits me across the head with it. "You're such a jerk!"

I fall backwards, defending myself with the magazine, laughing.

"Girls!" Aunt Peggy calls from the top of the stairs. We freeze. She leans down the stairs, shooting a glare at us, "People are trying to sleep, you know. You two should get to sleep too."

We keep our mouths shut tightly and nod, frozen in mid-pillow fight. She rolls her eyes – Kodi clearly inherited his habit of rolling his eyes from her – and retreats from the basement.

Pansy and I look at one another, fighting to keep poker faces. Our lips twitch. Abruptly, we buckle over, laughing.

* * *

**A/N: **FYI, just because the characters I write about have certain opinions does not mean that my opinions are identical to their opinions. Marija's ER comment was inspired by something that I read in 2011 (maybe 2010?) about ER wait times somewhere in Canada. Wish I had a source. Also, I watched Girls Town before finishing up this chapter so some of the speaking patterns were influenced by that.

Angelia Graphikos, u-Mail, Ambassador Ges'ark, Pansy (+ family), Marija, Gabbi, Rachel, Zombie Apocalypse II, Essence, and that series with the werewolves and ninjas (as of yet unnamed) are, in fact, my Original Creations. Harry Potter is in here because canonically in YJ it exists (see Wally's comment on Dumbledore in 'Denial'). I threw werewolves and ninjas in to make everything 20% cooler. _I have no other reason._


	5. Sha'lain'a 2

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice (DC) are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, gambling, mentions of domestic & child abuse & rape, prostitution, murder, coarse language**_

_**Edit: 04/02/13**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Sha'lain'a**

"_If something resists breaking no matter how much pressure is applied, it is described as _khatun_."_

Jack Weatherford, The Secret History of the Mongol Queens (p.37)

* * *

Kor'dia'ax.

My birth name's origin can be traced back centuries in Atlantean society to a time when Atlanteans were beginning to join their separate 'tribes' – they weren't called city-states then –and building them into an undersea empire.

It was a tumultuous time, as expected, considering there was this burgeoning undersea empire coming at odds with the surface-dwellers of the time while both societies had to deal with issues among their own territories from their own people. Surface-dwellers were less than pleased that more sun-comfortable Atlanteans were occupying the waters of their beaches and failing to adhere to the surface-world's restrictions on, well, everything Atlanteans didn't bother restricting (at least not to the degree the surface-dwellers did); while Atlanteans of the time were more than a little irritated by the surface-world's apparent inability to grasp the basic philosophies of Atlantean life (which the Atlanteans deemed superior to the surface-dwellers) and the apparent obvious fact that Atlanteans were superior in every way to surface-dwellers.

It was a culture clash of ancient, dramatically juxtaposed societies. The clash resulted in an extreme explosion of shore and water battles. War was proclaimed. Most battles took place not between those territories that proclaimed war but in skirmishes and ambushes amongst other squabbling territories. Plenty of ships were sunk. The burns were horrific.

Kor'dia'ax came from the word some of the most bigoted Atlanteans used at the time to describe anyone who didn't adhere to their standards of perfection. Impure Atlanteans, Humans, etcetera, were all called Korda. It was a slur of the worst kind back then. The word has morphed, changed over time, joining other words used to mean 'impure' and such, but the names that came out of it remain virtually unchanged.

Kordax was born a couple centuries after the altercations between the Atlanteans and surface-dwellers, during a time when the Atlanteans had sunk back into the depths of the waters and opted to simply ignore the, in their perspectives, ignorant surface-dwellers. Kordax was the illegitimate son of an Atlantean princess. He was born "mutated", which was hardly surprising considering the inbreeding occurring in the royal family at the time. He had a particular affinity for sorcery, possessed blond hair – which was rarely, if ever, seen anywhere in Atlantis – and because of his status as a pariah (being an illegitimate and mutated not-wholly prince will do that to a person) he found himself with few friends to focus on. Thus, he buried himself in his studies.

Kordax was, by all accounts, intelligent. He had a firm grasp of strategy and tactics, he was an excellent combatant, and with his natural affinity for sorcery it wasn't particularly difficult for him to distinguish himself as an excellent warrior. As a viable threat to the crown.

When one is put down constantly by others, yet possesses a thick skin, and knows in one's very being that the put downs are completely unwarranted, a bitterness develops. A resentment builds. A thirst to prove oneself, to show everyone what one is made out of, may become insatiable.

When I finally looked up the history behind my birth name and "curse" I was not surprised by Kordax's attack. He hated the people who surrounded him. They had given him no reason to like, or even tolerate, them. They merely shouted slur after slur, beat him, ridiculed him, turned him into a pariah among his own people. People which, he likely would have thought, should have been ruled by him.

Kordax built up an army, bought some mercenaries, and attacked the royal family. Including the matim that decided to name him after an insult to everyone who was not an ideal Atlantean. He spread his army across the Atlantic Ocean first, over a span of nearly thirteen years. The casualties were staggering. So many people had died in Kordax's onslaught that it took the next two generations for the population in the Atlantic Ocean to recover.

He was a warlord whose appearance – large gills, blond hair, some prominent scales – and immense magical potential became synonymous with evil.

My birth name comes from his, which in turn comes from one of the oldest slurs against creatures who did not adhere to the most rigid standards of being an ideal, or pure, Atlantean. It is not a name meant to inspire good deeds, good behaviour, or pleasant interactions. It is a name of chaos; a name of poor choices and despicable, immoral deeds; a name of nightmarish personas and unrestrained power capable of inflicting the most monstrous of wounds.

* * *

**2**

**Silian Caverns, Atlantis : October 2, 1989 – 20:12 UTC-01**

"Win this and you'll get the entire pot," Aspasia reminds me.

I nod stiffly, rolling my shoulders and mentally reviewing the spells I know. The entire pot. That's a lot of money. I need it.

If this guy beats me then he'll get it. I can't let that happen.

My hair is tied back into a series of tight braids that pull at my scalp and are interwoven with spikes and strips of metal that dissuade anyone from attempting to pull my hair. I use a charm on it to make my blonde colouring stand out even more, to emphasize my apparent power. A tight, blue band is around my chest and I wear a pair of shorts on my bottom half. Around my biceps, thighs and calves are golden rings and I wear a pair of fingerless gloves that stretch onto my forearms to where they're padded. Against my right thigh is a combat knife tucked against the band and tucked against my gloves are a pair of small daggers. Around my neck attached to the band around my chest is a necklace that displays the teeth I have managed to knock out of my opponents mouths. Some are pointed, some are not. Some are white, some are discoloured, but everyone knows they are from my opponents.

I wear my scars proudly. The ones covering my hands and feet are not particularly intimidating. The ones on my stomach, legs and arms combined with the scar on my jaw nearly connecting to my right ear are more intimidating.

It is my name and my hair that carry my reputation though.

"This young man has dared to enter the cage and fight against the unforgivable, the cursed child, Kor'dia'ax!"

I ignore the words of the announcer and merely stand in the large cage watching as the guy – he is only a few years older than me, maybe seventeen at most – swims inside. He's clearly a fresh recruit. A soldier. I've faced plenty of fresh soldiers. It's become almost tradition for the soldiers stationed around here to get all their new recruits to fight me. In the beginning, they usually won, but I am a quick learner, and I've always been able to take a hit. The fact that I've learned how to use my name and appearance and the superstitions revolving around them to my advantage certainly doesn't hurt either.

Everyone around here believes in the Curse of Kordax. I have a name taken from his name. I have blonde hair and he was said to be a blond as well. Blond hair is said to be one of the signs of his powerful evil.

Beating me – the fourteen-year-old cursed by Kordax – gives the new recruits bragging rights now. Before, beating up a little girl was just a chance to prove how dedicated they were to the so-called good of Atlantis.

It shouldn't be a surprise that I dislike the Atlantean soldiers and mistrust most other forms of law enforcement. It's not as if they helped me when I was tiny and being hit or starved or ignored.

I enjoy beating up the new recruits. They're cocky, arrogant, bigoted, selfish little brats and they are just egged on by most of the older recruits. They need to be taken down a few pegs and if I am the one to do it then so be it.

The new recruit is strong, that much is obvious. He's trained as all new recruits are, that's just simple logic. He has short black hair and brown eyes that are dancing with a cocky mirth that I dearly want to obliterate. His skin is olive and he's wearing a simple uniform that gives me little to grab onto to throw him off. He's streamlined and clearly was used to being at the top of the food chain in whatever academy he went to. With that in mind it's reasonable to assume that he was good at most of his classes so he'll be a decent fighter, a decent sorcerer, decent in pretty much everything but it's doubtful that he's supremely good at anything. If he was his stance would show it. He would be standing as a sorcerer would to prep for a spell if he preferred and was better at sorcery than anything else. He would do the same if he preferred and was better at unarmed combat. He would be holding his spear defensively if he preferred to fight with weapons.

No, he's just good all-around.

I know my strategy for taking down those types of soldiers. Hit them hard and fast. Put on a show for the beginning, dodge for a bit to tire him out, make him angry. Then strike. Strike hard and fast. End the match decisively.

I put my hands on my hips and raise an eyebrow at the soldier. I can be cocky too.

The horn goes off signalling the beginning of the match. I smirk.

"Do you really think they want to see two little girls fight?" I taunt with my smirk, leaning forward to display my necklace of teeth.

He shoots a glare at me.

Comparing my male opponents to little girls always makes their blood rise. Taunting my female opponents is a little harder, but far from impossible, or even difficult.

The people in the crowd hoot and holler and I turn my back to my opponent, raising my hands to the spectators and crooning, "I think this little girl is scared! A little frightened of the power I hold, sweetheart?" I turn back around, tilting my head patronizingly at him as I move towards him. I drag a finger along his jaw, still smirking, "It's alright sweetheart, you wouldn't be the first to fear me."

His hand snaps out, intending on catching my wrist. I snap my wrist out of the way and duck beneath his arm. His hand lashes out, wrapping around my braids, causing the metal spikes to sink into his flesh thanks to his own strong grip. He shouts in surprise and pain and instantly releases my braids. I swim up over him and flip as he stares at his hand for a split-second, alarmed by the blood.

"What's the matter? Can't handle the blonde?" I mock, landing on the opposite side of him and twisting out of his grasp as he shoots his hand out for me. I hover a few feet away with my hands clasped behind my back as I look up at him from beneath my lashes, smirking. He grasps his spear, ignoring the blood on his right palm and glares at me. His glare is hardly effective. There's a flicker of fear in there.

Awesome.

He definitely grew up hearing stories of the Curse of Kordax. He'll fear me just because of that. He won't even bother to consider that perhaps I outfitted my hair with something a little extra. It was obviously a part of my power that my hair was unnaturally sharp and could stab him. A part of the Curse.

He steels his glare and darts forward. I dodge and then block his spear, my combat knife creating a notch in the spear's rod. I smile at him. He uses his superior strength to slam the spear's rod against the side of my head and send me crashing against the cage. I move immediately to get out of the corner and rip my combat knife right through his spear's rod. He tosses the rod to the side before punching me in the face and I twist immediately, putting my back to him. Pain rushes across my back and I can feel blood leaving my back as his spear point drags across my left shoulder blade. I twist, block the spear point with my combat knife and knee him in the gut. He buckles over and I twist again, slamming my spiked hair in between his chest and my back and dragging my right forearm dagger across his right forearm. The spear point falls out of his grasp and his channels wind down his arms swiftly. I send a quick surge of self-energy across my back as a tinge of electricity hits my skin courtesy of him. The electrical charge is added to the spikes of metal impacting with his chest and he screams.

He reels backwards instinctively and I twist, sheathing my forearm dagger as I ball my right hand into a fist. The uppercut snaps against his jaw and is swiftly followed by my electrically surging hands grabbing his head and bringing it down as I bring my knee up. My knee cracks against his jaw, slamming him back up and I finish with a hook that sends him crashing to the ground.

I sheath my combat knife and look down at him. He had some skill but he wasn't as fast as me. Running from people and learning how to dodge whenever my patera or matim raised their hands has paid off, I suppose. His jaw is broken now and there are two teeth floating in the water. I pluck them out of the water and spin above the new recruit, my hands in the air and a smile plastered across my face as the people who bet on me cheer and the rest swear.

The only thing I've learned from this job is how to fight better and how to string teeth. I hate it.

* * *

**Silian, Atlantis : October 12, 1989 – 01:48 UTC-01**

Aspasia took her name from a surface-dweller. She considers herself a paradigm of amazing. Indeed, she helps the runaways under her care, she ensures that we have food and clothing, but she has obliterated any positive associations I may have ever had with the name 'Aspasia'.

She runs the cage fights, for one. She encourages me to string the teeth of my opponents around my neck. She was the one who gave me the idea to put spikes in my braids. She trains 'her girls' in how to use what they already have to make some money. She doesn't need to be with anyone anymore, our fights and the cuts she gets from our customers keeps her financially secure.

"You know what I think, Kor'dia'ax?" Aspasia says, heading over to me as Jasle finishes braiding the spikes into my hair. My last opponent ripped the spikes out. I stabbed his stomach in return. I don't know if he's still alive or not.

"I think you should have finished that match quicker," Aspasia explains. She grabs one of my braids, careful to ensure her webbing doesn't tear against the spikes, then adds, "These spikes cost money you know. I will need to up my cut by twenty percent just to get you new ones."

"But that will leave me with only ten-"

She glares at me. I shut up. She drops my braid.

"And if you do what you did last week again, it'll be twenty-two percent," she threatens.

Jasle glares at Aspasia, "He was hurting her! She didn't want to do it!"

"The customer is always right," Aspasia recites.

I squeeze Jasle's forearm in warning. Jasle closes her mouth. Aspasia leaves.

The moment Aspasia is out of range, Jasle snaps, "You aren't going to protest? He raped you and-"

"I cannot afford to anger her anymore. I need the money."

Jasle's expression softens, "How close are you?"

"If I get another five hours with middle customers I'll have enough," I answer. "I'll be able to go north, head by Lemuria. Get out of here."

"I hope you get out," Jasle murmurs, pressing her lips to my scalp. "I really hope you do."

"I will come back and get you. I swear."

"You don't have to do that."

"I will."

* * *

**Silian Caverns, Atlantis : October 15, 1989 – 22:14 UTC-01**

I am back in the cage. My opponent isn't a soldier; there aren't many soldiers here at all tonight. I think my opponent tonight just wants to brawl.

Alright. Fine. I can do that.

Neither of us have any weapons tonight. I'm not permitted to use my sorcery either.

Jasle is at one of the tables, handing them their drinks, her jade tail flicking in the water and her dark arm pulling away quickly from the table as she watches me with auburn eyes; eyes that always get her customers, and no surprise, they're gorgeous. I flash her a quick smile. A corner of her mouth quirks up and her barely restrained curls bounce in the water as she turns and heads back to the kitchen, swimming over tables.

I turn back to my opponent. He is a foot taller than me, with a lean build, is covered in green scales, and has fins jutting from his calves and forearms and across the top of his head. His eyes are large and bulbous; orbs of pale yellow and blue. His teeth are sharp, just like his claws, and his gills take up most of his neck.

It doesn't matter that he doesn't use any weapons. His claws and teeth are weapons enough.

The horn goes off.

He darts forward. I block his swipe and his claws dig across my forearm. I grit my teeth and grab his arm, blocking a second swipe and snapping myself up. He leans forward slightly at my weight on his arm and I clamp my thighs around his neck, twisting in the water and flipping him over and around, slamming him onto his back onto the ground.

I learned that move from watching clips of Aspasia when she used to fight.

I move off him swiftly, before he recovers and takes a few swipes at my thighs. I kick him in the face and he rolls to the side, pushing himself up from the ground and grabbing my ankle in the same instant. He opens his mouth and I grimace at the sight of two rows of sharp teeth.

_Wonderful._

I kick him in the shoulder, dislodging his hand from my ankle, and move forward. In an instant I have my arm wrapped around his neck and arm clearly threatening to snap his neck.

_CRASH!_

"NOBODY MOVE!"

My grip on his neck tightens and his hands, halfway to moving to my arm, freeze.

So that's where the soldiers were.

I can spot six soldiers I've fought before – two managed to beat me – in the ranks of the soldiers moving in on the establishment. I release my opponent and kick him in the back, sending him crashing into the opposite wall of the cage. Immediately, I move for the exit from the cage, blasting the lock to pieces and shoving it open, ignoring the soldier shouting at me to stay put.

A glint of jade tells me that Jasle just retreated back into the kitchen.

A scream tells me that the kitchen is not safe. Jasle comes tumbling out of the kitchen.

"HANDS UP!"

I lift my hands over my head, watching silently as Jasle does the same and the soldiers surround us.

_BOOM!_

Electricity surges from behind the soldiers at the front, sending them crashing forwards. Chaos erupts.

"Kor'dia!" Jasle shouts and I grab her by the forearm, simultaneously raising a shield.

We head straight for the soldiers recovering up front. Jasle wallops one across the face with a serving platter from a nearby table and whips another across the chest with one of her water-constructs. I kick another in the gut and use his gun to shoot another through the fin. With a twist and a second shield we propel ourselves out of the caverns.

"Aspasia's place is probably compromised," Jasle murmurs as we swim erratically, trying to ensure that the soldiers pursuing us do not manage to reach us.

"Where do we go then?" I ask as she pulls me around a corner and begins ascending.

She glances back at the five soldiers. Three of the soldiers are ripping through the water with the aid of their fins and the other two are focusing on trying to shoot us.

"The surface," she says breathlessly. "You have a distinct appearance. You cannot hide here. The surface, Kor'dia."

"But you cannot-" I gesture to her fin.

"I know," she breaks the surface and pulls me towards the nearest shore. Her biological channels glow as she turns, summoning a shield while speaking to me, "Go, Kor'dia. You can survive there."

"But-"

"Go! I'll be fine!"

"No! I can help, I can-"

She turns to me and a water-whip glowing blue-green wraps around me and promptly flings me towards the shore. She shouts as I recover, coughing, my feet ashore completely and my head half submerged, "GO!"

I shoot up to my feet, my eyes widening as a ball of blue-green energy forms in her hands. She dives underwater and I watch from the surface as the water glows. Two soldiers get thrown out of the water, blood spilling from their bodies, before they crash back beneath the waves.

"NO!"

I run into the water, diving back under, shouting.

Jasle is turning, a blade of water slicing from her hand and blood spilling from her belly from a shot that made its mark. I can't react in time. The next shot cuts straight through her chest. Jasle falls. Her curls whisper through the water, tendrils of a haunting beauty that once was my protector, my mentor.

"_JASLE!"_

"FREEZE!" the soldier who shot her, the soldier who…who killed her, shouts.

I cannot think. All I can do is act.

The water tentacle rips straight through his chest.

The blood hits another soldier. Almost immediately, the remaining soldiers head straight for me.

"YOU WANNA TAKE ON THE CURSED ONE? COME ON!" I shriek, fury ripping through my bones and my biological channels glowing across my arms and back, hips and torso and chest, legs and face. I know I can't control it properly.

The energy explodes out of me, propelling me backwards and sending the soldiers flying in every direction possible.

I careen out of the water and skid across the surface until I hit the shore once again. I spit out a mouthful of unwanted water and push myself onto my hands and knees. Scattered in the water, the soldiers rise. Their guns flash through the night and I can spot one heading straight for me. He must be able to survive on the surface.

I shoot to my feet, turn, and run across the beach. I leap up the incline at the back and find myself landing on a road. I sprint forward as quickly as my legs can take me. My bare feet pound the ground, I ignore the heaviness of the air, I disregard the fact that this is the longest I've breathed on the surface, I push away the discomfort from the heat, and when a vehicle threatens to run me over I leap over it effortlessly.

The air may feel heavier here but I also feel stronger.

And the soldier seems to be unable to catch me.

I don't stop running until I feel myself nearly buckling over from the lack of water. I collapse where I stand with the air tickling my gills, the dryness assaulting my skin and the memory of Jasle falling frozen in my memory.

* * *

**Crastinus, Atlantis : March 6, 1990 – 18:22 UTC-04**

I have no idea why I am here.

Last time I was in Crastinus I was getting out of my childhood home. I was terrified out of my mind, with absolutely no plan beyond leaving, but with a determination which, if tangible, probably would have been able to remove the issues that prompted me to leave in the first place.

That is a depressing thought, so I ignore it.

Staring at my childhood home is not particularly joyous either but I cannot seem to look away.

I suppose I should not be surprised. I was never a large part of the day-to-day life. I was just…there. A shadow of…something, someone else. A child, confused and hurting and not entirely certain if I should be terrified or not because that was all I knew. Pain and hurt and fists and words that cut deeper than the blades that would hit me in the cage in the future I knew nothing of.

My childhood home is identical to the homes surrounding it. The same roof. The same floor. The same doors. The same surrounding windows that were never quite in the right spot.

I hunker deeper into the rocks, double-checking that my headscarf is still on and my clothing still covers my more distinguishing features. A familiar low rumble of a laugh spikes through the water and I find myself cringing involuntarily while the scar on my scalp behind my left ear, and the scar on the back of my neck along my hairline prickle. I rub my left hand on the back of my neck, feeling the old scar there before moving my hand up to the scar behind my ear. They twinge with a phantom pain as the source of the low, rumbling laugh comes into view.

He's older than I remember, heavier. He doesn't have any hair on his head anymore, but his eyes are as sharp and mean as ever. Twin dark brown pools beneath black brows and set against a complexion three shades darker than mine. Beside him, also heavier, older, is a woman with a fair, faintly freckled complexion, and grey-streaked mahogany hair that could be said to have beautiful curls and waves when let down from the haphazard bun she usually ties it up in. Her pale green eyes dart like her husband's through the waves, always watching. I look them over quickly but as they pass my hiding spot I find myself focusing on their hands.

His fit his body. They are an average size, webbed, calloused thanks to a hard work ethic and an affinity for weaponry. There are small scars scattered across his hands. Most are from training accidents, most are from when he was my age. I can spot the beginnings of a starburst scar on his forearm. Jagged, sharp lines stretching around his forearm, twisting his flesh into a product of a child's – his child's, _my _– desperation.

My right hand clenches instinctively against the rock I have hidden myself against and the small jagged scars in my palm contract.

Hers fit her body. Again, they are of an average size, webbed, calloused thanks to an equally hard work ethic and littered with small burns from training accidents. She has no starburst scars. No, she's too good of a sorceress to have jagged starburst scars stretching her flesh as a product of a child's – her child's, _my _– desperation. There is a scar from a blade though, resting on the back of her left hand.

I watch, waiting for…something. I do not know what I expect to see. All I do see is the couple going into their house, laughing at something the woman said. The door shuts behind them and I expect to see a boy with dark skin and dark hair and pale eyes rushing past my hiding spot, shouting something to the girl behind him, chasing him. She has the same nose he has, but her eyes are like their patera's – dark brown pools – and she keeps her hair short because she hates the hassle of keeping it long.

They don't come.

It hits me like one of the soldiers.

Time has passed.

Patera and Matim remain in my – our – childhood home. But of course my…

...

Of course _their _children wouldn't remain there. The boy is a man now, he's 22. And the girl…she's 20. They have their own lives. Jobs. Maybe partners. Maybe, hopefully not, children.

I am not naïve enough to think that they regret what they did to me.

I do not want them to have children. I do not want to find them. I do not want to see them and realize that time has passed, that the people who…who tried to…who nearly…

I do not want to see the people who gave me the scars on my flesh, the exposure to that terrifying 'your patera said I could' creature, and the knowledge of how to dodge a fist at the age of four. I do not want to see them living happily ever after when they refused to let me reach that point. I refuse to watch and give in to the hope in the back of my throat that maybe they regret and they give a damn and they care and they don't hate me just because I was born and apparently _cursed them _even though I couldn't even _sit up on my own._

I do not want to see any of it, so I return to the surface-world.

* * *

Two weeks later, I meet a girl named Daphne. She teaches me about the secrets, magic and protectors of the surface-world.

* * *

**A/N: **Shorter than the other chapters, but I felt bad making you all wait for this for so long, so I took what I had done and opted to separate the original "Sha'lain'a 2" into two separate chapters. On the bright side, more Sha'lain'a and Atlantis background! Remember to check my profile for progress updates!

I borrowed some elements from DC (both comics and DCAU), plus some elements from various [ancient] societies, religions and mythologies to create this Atlantis. This Atlantean history is broadly my own creation (besides some names) so I will, in all likelihood, be messing with some of your Atlantis headcanons and plenty of DC Atlantis canon.

The Secret History of the Mongol Queens by Jack Weatherford, is a pretty interesting read, btw.

The real, historical, Aspasia, was a philosopher and Heteira (courtesan) in Ancient Greece whose most notable lover was Pericles. She hung out with Socrates – who was apparently impressed by her grasp of rhetoric, and various forms of logic and philosophy – and later taught Lysicles. Obviously, _Maelstrom's _Aspasia doesn't do the real Aspasia any justice whatsoever.

More Aspasia info, if interested: .edu /~grout/ encyclopaedia_romana/ greece/ hetairai/

**R&R**


	6. Kalladura'ham 4

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice, DC and Disney are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, femslash**_

_**Edit: 04/02/13**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Whenever you're in conflict with someone, there is one factor that can make the difference between damaging your relationship and deepening it. That factor is attitude."_

William James

* * *

**4**

**Poseidonis, Atlantis : May 6, 2009 – 14:16 UTC-03**

"What about this?" questions Tula, holding out a tower bangle for my inspection.

I take the bracelet from her, ignoring the butterflies as her fingers brush across my own because I know she isn't interested in me, she isn't interested in girls. I know that, so I am going to shove the affections away as far as possible because it will lead to nothing.

It will work. I swear it will.

Hopefully.

I focus on the bangle, turning it over in my fingers, looking with a critical eye at the stones. I thank my matim making jewelry and selling it in her sorcery accessories shop for a living for my knowledge of Atlantean jewelry. Tula is swimming a couple feet away and examining a headband, her short red hair being rustled slightly by the water.

This would be so much easier to deal with if it was Garth I held affections for. At least there's a possibility, however diminutive, of him returning my affections.

I inwardly sigh and swim to Tula, critiquing the bangle, "It has good construction but is grossly overpriced."

She smiles at me, a dimple on her left cheek beneath a gathering of freckles making me mentally swear and wish I was on a mission instead of agreeing to accompany Tula on her quest for jewelry to wear to one of her old friend's older sister's wedding. Garth had managed to avoid the shopping trip entirely, citing being male as an excuse. Which it wasn't, and both Tula and I were aware of that fact. We didn't bother to chide him into accompanying us though. He didn't mind clothes shopping. It was jewelry shopping that irritated him. He inevitably wound up breaking something whenever he was around jewelry.

He is forbidden from ever opening my jewelry drawer again.

It took Matim and I five hours to repair all of my anklets.

"Suppose I will not buy it then," Tula says, taking the bangle from me and squeezing past me to return it to its display.

I know her freckles continue across her chest. It is awkward knowledge at the moment.

"I really just want a bangle of some sort," Tula sighs, turning away from the necklace.

"No anklet?" I question, moving over to a display of anklets – my one weakness. Next to jackets. I have a weakness for surface-world jackets. Annex Orin has ordered Roy to stop me from buying jackets whenever we find ourselves in a store. It has become a problem.

She chuckles, well aware of my weakness for anklets, "No, no anklet. And we're shopping for me Kalla, not you."

"I am perfectly capable of ignoring anklets," I argue.

"No, you're not," she grabs my arm and drags me away from the beautiful display of anklets. Even though there was a gorgeous gold one with purple stones bordered by some exquisite carving that I need.

I need it.

I swear.

"Kalla," Tula faces me. She cocks an eyebrow as I switch my gaze abruptly from the gorgeous anklet back to her. Her nose scrunches up slightly as she makes an irritated face, "I need your help."

She looks adorable when she scrunches her nose up like that. I kind of want to irritate her more just to see her make that face. But I won't. I will be nice. I nod sharply, keeping myself from leaning down and kissing the tip of her scrunched-up nose as I am sorely tempted to, "I am here to serve."

She rolls her eyes, smiling, then turns and grabs another bangle off a display.

I follow her, offering my advice when asked. Within an hour we manage to locate the desired jewelry and return to the dorms. As Tula swims back to our formerly shared room to put away the jewelry I join Garth in the dormitory's common area.

He is clearly fretting over an assignment with Lori beside him, probably regretting having taken the upper level courses she took.

"I do not understand these equations at all," Garth laments.

Lori sighs, "Why did we leave this until the last minute again?"

"Because we are fools."

"Math?" I question, leaning over Garth's shoulder to look at his tablet. "Arithmancy?"

"Everything with numbers," Lori answers. "If this was History or Strategy and Tactics I would already be done but these equations make no sense whatsoever."

She is apparently one of the best in her Strategy and Tactics class. I, unfortunately, am not in that class, being privately tutored by a Governor who tailors my education to suit my job as Aqualass and my later job as…whatever I call myself when I am no longer Annex's protégé. Garth is similarly talented, as far as history goes, and sorcery – specifically the sorcery that demands more energy in general and less finesse – but he experiences some challenges in regards to mathematics and arithmancy.

Mathematics and Arithmancy, being two of the few courses in the Conservatory that did not require immense amounts of sorcery, I excelled – and still excel – at.

"What am I doing wrong, Kalla?" Garth questions, gesturing to his tablet.

I pull his stylus out of his hand and promptly cross out a number and explain, "You added 4 instead of 1."

Garth blinks and mutely takes the stylus.

"You are 9-1-8," I say, straightening up. "Interesting."

"I did the same thing," Lori groans.

"Am I calculating you correctly?" questions Garth, holding his tablet up again for me to inspect.

I grab it and look over the equation then nod, "Yes."

"You are 4-7-6?"

"Depends on what version of my name you use," I explain, handing him back the tablet. "Using 'Kalladura'ham' will get 4-7-6, using 'Kalla' will get 1-2-8, using 'Kalladura'ham D' – the name I usually use when places require at least a surname initial – will get 8-7-1, and using 'Aqualass' will get 1-6-4. I seem to always get multiples of 2, oddly enough, and usually a 1."

"Two?" Lori repeats, smirking. "Are you conflicted, Kalla?"

"Of course not."

"Nine is the complete number, correct?" Garth questions.

I nod in confirmation, "Yes, it is widely accepted as such."

"So my character number is 9, which, apparently, means I am complete. The 1 is my heart number…"

"Thus, you may wish to become a leader," I suggest. "Your social number does suggest that you present yourself as a shrewd businessman."

"…" Garth raises an eyebrow at me, "Me? A businessman?"

"You are adept at politics, that is…similar."

"Let's look at you," Garth suggests. "You, as 'Aqualass', have a character number of 1, which fits, you would have to be a leader in that position. Heart is 6 so you secretly want to gossip about the other superheroes and develop more friendship relationships rather than business. Social is 4 so you present yourself as reliable and in complete control."

"That sounds ideal for when you are rescuing civilians," Tula comments, gliding into the homework session. "Everything is chaotic around them, someone close to them might have died and you are there, solid, in-control, reliable. Probably helps."

"I thought you were friends with Speedy," Garth questions, frowning at me.

I nod, "I am."

"According to this," Garth holds up his tablet again, "you want more friendships."

"It is a job, not a social club. I am not there to build friendships."

"Why were my parents weird and decide to have a surname?" Lori questions as she makes a face at her tablet. "I feel as though my results are skewed because of it."

"What are they?" questions Tula.

"5-3-2."

"Sounds right to me," Tula says after a moment of contemplation.

"With the 5 it is saying that I am a flake!"

"That is not what 5 means," I argue. "Five usually represents adventure and energy. It is not an insult."

Lori frowns.

"Tula is 9-4-5," Garth announces. "She is complete, like me. She wants to be more like Aqualass is socially. Socially, she is adventurous and energetic."

Lori looks up at Tula. She nods, "Fits."

Tula cocks an eyebrow, "You just said that 5 is an insult."

Lori shrugs.

Tula opts to ignore it and questions them, "Kalla and I were going to head out of the city, would you like to come with us?"

"What are you doing?" Lori inquires.

"My matim knows of some caves, we are going to explore them," I explain.

"Thanks, but no. I had enough of caves on our expedition two weeks ago," Lori answers.

Garth shrugs, "I'll come."

Tula grins, clapping her hands, "Wonderful!"

She's a 9, complete, and her grin infects my stomach with butterflies. This could be a better situation. Much better.

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : October 1, 2009 – 12:13 UTC-03**

Technically, I am off-duty today so I should not be working but it is also my matim's birthday today so I am working at the shop to give her a day off.

I have spent so much time in Poseidonis the past couple years that I had forgotten how much stuff was in Matim's shop.

The place is overflowing with various magical items she is either distributing for other sorcerers or produced herself, and jewelry is on every possible shelf and displayed beneath glass everywhere else. The shop is decorated to evoke a mysterious quality about it for the customers, but it simply makes me mellow.

I spend my time behind the desk, scrolling through my email and favourite websites, checking up on Pansy's Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr, and looking at all the articles on heroes and weaponry I can find. I have numerous documents on my tablet that are filled to the brim with my information on superheroes and villains, weaponry, strategy and tactics, and sorcery. There are a number of websites, blogs and online archives maintained by sorcerers that I frequent, hoping to keep myself updated on the current sorcery issues even though I may not be the best sorceress in the world.

Currently, the various protective groups around populated areas are prepping alongside the known werewolves for the full moon, so there are some blogs highlighting that preparation. I know that Matim's old skinshifter friends will be heavily involved in that. Daphne, I think, was one friend. People are also prepping for All Hallows Eve and getting excited about the various celebrations that will be occurring the world over.

I log onto _The Aconite Post_, the largest online paper that focuses on all things related to sorcery, magic, spirits, etcetera, by typing in my login and password and then sending a surge of self-energy into the tablet, just enough to assure the site that I was, in fact, who I said I was. Most people who disregard magic tend to view the online sorcery community as a parody, so we tend to be pretty well-protected from individuals wishing harm upon those who use magic but we still employ safeguards. This enables articles to continue to be published and our sorcery-only sites to remain running.

A few articles catch my eye:

**Sirens slip out of Junction's West Pack's paws: 2 Dead**

I hope that Matim reads this. I recall that she has friends in Junction City.

**W.C.U. President Remus Lars promises 0 North American attacks this month**

Were-Creatures United. They have been attempting to expand their membership globally in recent years. I hope Remus' promise is kept. I do not wish to face any were-creatures.

**German Vampire Covens continue protest for full blood coverage by local leaders**

This is not new, but it is best if I keep up-to-date on the issue regardless. Vampires are usually pretty well-behaved, the ones who adhere to their society's laws and traditions at least, but when they do misbehave the outcomes are, unfortunately, usually rather violent.

**Team-Up between Anassa Mera and Aqualass bears fruit: Siren Supremacy leader Hen'aaa arrested**

I really should team-up with Anassa more often. It is enjoyable. I also look forward to Hen'aaa's trial finishing quickly, she's murdered far too many people to get away unpunished.

**Meet the new Pied Piper, Kiri**

Hmmm, interesting. I wonder if she is proficient with the Pan Flutes?

It is always both satisfying and embarrassing to see my name in print.

The small light on the desk lights up as a customer enters the store. I look up, half paying attention to the customer, and half to the article about Sirens in Junction City. Almost immediately, my eyes widen.

_PHSWIP!_

I dive off my stool, the shot colliding with the wall right where my head would have been. Instantly I shoot out from behind the desk and head for the door to the back room.

_PHSWIP!_

I twist, forming a barely-there hardwater shield instinctively. The shot fizzles against the shield but sparks manage to jut through, burning small pieces of my bare shoulder.

I dart up, grabbing the man's wrist and straightening his arm before I slam my palm into his elbow and hook my foot around the back of his right knee to give me an opening to wrap my arm around his neck and use him as a shield while his partner shoots. The shot hits the man in the gut and I kick him straight toward his partner. I twist back, whipping my leg out to kick the stool towards the next attacker. The stool collides with his gut, not harmful, but distracting, and I summon another shield as I kick the desk, dislodging it from the floor and sending it careening straight into two others and a shelf.

Matim is going to kill me.

"ACK!"

I crash backwards, the shot fizzling against my left bicep. Immediately I turn and swim up, slamming my foot on a gun and flipping over the guy to kick him in the back of the neck. His armor cracks on impact and he crashes immediately into another person, crashing straight into a necklace display.

I dart behind a shelf, breathless. I definitely know those uniforms. I only looked over that file on Black Manta about sixteen times until I memorized it. Manta's lackeys were targeting me, in my Matim's shop, on my Matim's birthday, for some reason.

Inconsiderate.

I am wearing civvies now too: a blue, midriff-baring and sleeveless shirt with a pair of quite short aqua shorts and a small purple wrap skirt. I am not armoured. Nor do I have my water-bearers.

This is a problem.

I kick the shelf over, sending it crashing into two of my attackers. I take advantage of the commotion and dart out of the shop, shutting the door firmly behind me before I go straight up, attempting to get a better view of the commotion occurring outside. Black Manta's agents are overrunning this part of the city nearly completely. They are engaging every combat-trained individual they find but thankfully are not lethally attacking those who are not combat-trained. They seem to merely be pushing the non-combat-trained to the side. That is odd, but certainly not unheard of.

"Hi."

I stiffen and turn sharply to find a gun leveled at my forehead. The man holding the gun is wearing a large black helmet created to look vaguely like the body of a manta-ray with the bonus of large, bulbous, cherry-red eyes that I know shoot concussive, occasionally burning, blasts. His file labels him as Black Manta, his real name is unknown.

All I know about him is that my patera once worked for him, and, supposedly, Black Manta wants to rule Atlantis. I do not know if that is true or not as far as Black Manta is concerned, but for Annex that is the truth. I should probably approach my encounters with Black Manta with the thought that total domination is his end goal regardless.

Black Manta is supposed to be intelligent, a decent commander of his troops, so he probably knows how I fight with my sorcery. He will know that when my artificial channels glow that I am preparing an attack or defense and I rather doubt that will please him. I don't dare make a move to perform sorcery while his gun is resting against my forehead.

"Come with me and my operatives will pull back from Shayeris, Kalla," Black Manta says, his voice slightly altered by his mask and breathing apparatus.

It is not surprising that he knows my name. It is hardly a secret in Atlantis.

"Why should I trust you?" I challenge.

He lowers the gun, which does little because his agents – or, I suppose, operatives – are surrounding us and training their own guns on me. He shakes his head, "I don't want to hurt you, Kalla."

I glare at him.

I do not know what expression he is looking at me with, but there is a moment of silence and then my question is rendered inconsequential as two of his operatives move to cuff my hands behind my back. I feel the hands of his operatives tighten around my wrists and I turn slightly, spotting another operative approaching me from behind with an Atlantean syringe in his hand. My eyes widen and I move immediately. The hands tighten around my arms and suddenly Black Manta is wrapping his arms around my shoulders so I respond immediately, my artificial channels glowing and electricity beginning to…

* * *

**Unknown : Unknown**

Air.

The surface.

My eyes snap open.

I jerk upright and nearly fall straight backwards as my restraints tug on my wrists. My chest heaving, I look around hastily, my eyes darting about the surface-world room that…looks like a normal bedroom.

Granted, the bed is adjusted to include the restraints but otherwise the room looks like a normal bedroom.

The room is pretty large for a bedroom. The bed is in the far corner from the door. There is a closet across from me with sliding mirror doors that confirm that I have not been changed out of my Atlantean civvies. Beside the bed against the wall is a dresser painted white with an alarm clock that displays the time as 2:17am, though where it is 2:17am I do not know. There are two novels sitting on the dresser as well, one on Cleopatra that I read last year and another on British weaponry that I read six months ago. Beside the door is a desk sandwiched between two bookcases filled with books that I have either read or would probably wind up reading at some point interspersed with small statues of sea creatures, desert creatures, and one of Anassa Hi'denna, the longest-reigning Queen of Atlantis. Through her reign she managed to build up one of the most impressive militaries in Atlantean history and rule over one of the largest Atlantean territories ever. She was amazing. That figurine isn't what holds my attention though. It's what is on the desk. A lamp, yes, a notebook, yes, a collection of pens and pencils and markers, yes, but also two photographs. Photographs of me.

The one on the left, next to the lamp, is a photograph of me when I still had long hair. I remember that photograph. It was taken during one of our trips to the surface-world. Pansy and her family had been taking a vacation to Disneyland. They had stopped at a beach and we had met up with them. Pansy had a waterproof camera and her obsession then had been photography so she was determined to get an awesome shot of me underwater. We swam as far as she could and then, with her holding her breath and me completely comfortable, we went underwater. My gills are flaring in the photograph, my mouth is wide, I am grinning, my eyes are happy, my hair is all around me like a halo and there are bubbles at the bottom left corner of the picture from when Pansy started laughing underwater. My arms are out wide and my fingers are spread out so that you can see all of my webbing. I'm not wearing Atlantean clothing. I'm wearing a long-sleeved purple wetsuit that manages to hide most of my artificial channels. I was ten then.

The one on the right, next to the container of pens, pencils and markers, is a photograph of me when I was training with Prince Orm in firearms. I am wearing one of my usual training uniforms with the glyph of Atlantis at my belt and have weights strapped to my wrists, ankles, and belt. I had started training with weights when I was 13 to try and build up my strength to better be the 'muscle' when going on missions with the other protégés, so I must be 13, maybe early 14, in that photograph. My shirt bares my midriff and I am wearing shorts so I can see the scars I have on my midriff and legs from the few missions Annex and I had in Atlantis by that time.

I assume that I am with Black Manta so how does he have these photographs of me? All the books that I like and I've read…the colours of the walls and the sheets…blues and greens, my favourite, how does he know of these things? Does he know of Pansy? Does he know of Kodi? How much does he know about me?

I do not understand.

Above the door is a security camera that has a clear view of every section of the room, barring the closet's interior. There is little I can do covertly at the moment.

The door swings open before I can figure out what my other options are.

A tall, physically fit man with a complexion a couple shades darker than my own, and shaved black hair strides into the room. His eyes are a deep brown, his cheekbones are high and sharp just as my own are, and the first thing he does is look me over with a quick sweep of the eyes before he focuses on my restraints.

He explains, walking forward leisurely as he gestures to my restraints, "I did not want to restrain you, but you know as well as I what you would have done."

Black Manta then?

"What do you want from me Black Manta?" I question sharply, straightening up and attempting to look imposing.

He does not seem at all threatened by me.

He plucks the photograph of me when I was ten from the desk and looks at it, commenting, "You were a cute child." He tosses the photograph onto my lap. "I wager that you had big dreams then. Dreams of being a leader, a warrior uncontested in her skills, of being someone respected."

I look up at him, carefully keeping my expression neutral even though everything he says is correct.

"What happened to that ambition?" he questions sharply. "What happened to the girl who believed she could be one of the greats?"

I do not break eye contact although my narrowed eyes relax as I state calmly, "She grew up."

He frowns, "I know all about the purists, Kalladura'ham. I know what they have done to you, to people like you. The disrespect they have forced upon you because you were born different."

My once broken finger twitches.

"I aim to remove society of those simple-minded fools," he explains.

"You will not succeed."

"I suppose your so-called King will attempt to stop me and you'll go along with him because your only ambition is to serve his every whim, but, I ask you, what has he ever done to combat the purists and people like them? What has he ever done to protect _your people_ from the terror others have inflicted upon them?"

"Do cease speaking of my King in such-"

"No Freedom of Expression in Atlantis then? Just an autocracy with no room for innovation? Efficient, I'll give him that, but hardly sustainable."

"You are speaking of things that you know nothing of."

"Because I am not Atlantean?" he challenges, leaning forward. "Is that why I cannot possibly know anything of the ruling structure of Atlantis? Please, don't be so naïve, Kalla. I know Atlantis better than you. Don't try and claim that you know your King keeps no secrets from you, I know that you're smarter than that."

"I have made no such claim, Manta. All leaders have secrets."

"I see," he nods thoughtfully. "Ever wonder what mine are?"

I look around the room then back at Manta, "Of course I do. You are an enemy of my people. Any information gained on you will surely give us a deeper understanding of yourself, your motivations, and your plans."

"Do you wonder how I know so much about you?"

"Is there a point in wondering?" I question caustically.

"I'll give you a hint," he offers. "If there is one thing I know better than most, it's infiltrating and gathering information on everything and everyone."

He taps the photograph lying on my lap, "From that information I know that you still have that kid inside you. You still want to be one of the greats. You still have ambition; I can see it in your eyes. You will serve your King as long as you need to and then, soon, you will break off and become great on your own terms, not restricted as you are as the protégé of Aquaman. And when you do, I'll be waiting, remembering every single one of our conflicts and agreements."

My eyes flick up to him, "What makes you think we will ever agree on anything?"

"I don't think. I know." He pauses, straightening up, "Always remember who has the most information in every situation, Kalla. That's the only way you will win. But, for now, our time is up."

My eyes widen sharply as he turns and leaves the room, locking the door behind him. Almost immediately, gas starts filtering into the room and I cannot sit up any longer.

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : October 19, 2009 – 08:17 UTC-03**

I was held hostage for nearly two weeks. Most of it I spent unconscious and when I did wake I was barely lucid. I vaguely recall a few more conversations with Black Manta, and the beeping of a machine along with electricity being funneled into my channels, but they're all barely-there memories. It is frustrating, because that fact means that it took four days to debrief me, as well as ensure that I wasn't carrying any methods of infiltration varying from tech to spells – apparently, Black Manta has used magic before to carry out his missions, but that was rarely done so was only known by a select few people, myself now included.

I completely skipped the hospital stay, being in perfect health save for a few minor side-effects – headaches, mostly – due to the gas and injection. Black Manta apparently kept me well-fed intravenously, made sure I was kept clean, and in general made sure that I was well taken care of. That was a little odd, to say the least. Usually, the people he captured were at least _hungry_. I was, while eager to actually _chew_ something, not exactly hungry.

My report was odd as well. Beyond the vague reference to electricity being funneled into my channels, there was nothing to suggest that Black Manta had intentionally physically harmed me. The electricity could have harmed me but I was apparently, while forgetful, lucid enough during the procedure to assist the artificial funneling of the electrical machine projecting the electricity onto me, to the point where there was no physical evidence of me being 'electrocuted'. Everything Black Manta did to me was exceedingly well-planned. I had a feeling there were safeties built into the safeties to ensure that nothing he planned went wrong.

When I finished my explanation of my time in captivity in front of my parents – who wished to hear it because of Patera's involvement with Black Manta – and Annex – who now knew of Patera's former criminal activities – a look passed between the three. I stared at all of them then questioned the look but received nothing beyond a vague reference to the theory that perhaps Manta was targeting Patera for his betrayal. The theory was a weak one with Patera having betrayed Manta so many years ago, but it was as good an excuse as any to explain why Annex, Matim, and Patera were suddenly having silent conversations that I was not privy to.

The sheer oddness of the event, especially in contrast to how Black Manta treated me in the other few altercations we had, remains on my mind when I return home for an ordered four-day leave. Every other altercation we have had has involved him attacking me clearly with the intent to harm me, if not kill me outright. He has given me openings to hit him, openings to exploit his plans whenever Annex was not around for moments, openings in which to try to take him down. Every single time I took those openings, however, he would somehow manage to get out on-top and explain his frustration with something I failed miserably at in the process of attempting to take advantage of the openings. It is like he has been teaching me on the sidelines, attempting to turn me into a worthy opponent.

"Matim, do you think that Manta aims to kill Annex?" I question as I look up from my tablet, having not read the article on Kiri despite staring at it for a good fifteen minutes.

She looks up sharply, "I suppose so. He wishes to rule Atlantis, does he not?"

"That is what is thought."

Matim frowns, "Do you not agree?"

"I am uncertain. I do not understand him."

She smiles softly, "I suppose the only people who would understand him, his motivations and plans, would have to spend a long amount of time with him."

"You would have to become a friend of his, wouldn't you?"

"Something of the sort."

"Who would do that? The man is a murderer."

"Your Patera once helped him kill, you know."

"Yes, but-"

"The world is not black and white, Kalladura'ham," Matim continues.

"Batman would probably disagree with you on that."

"That is fine. I am no more frightened of him than I am of you. The world is grey. Criminals have families, dreams, loves, and fears just as heroes do. Heroes and criminals both have good days and bad days; they both make mistakes and dream of their perfect world."

"Then how do you explain people like Joker?"

Matim pauses in her beading. She looks at me, sadness and memories crossing her face, "There is a Dark Place, Kalladura'ham. It is the place people see and enter when they have hit rock bottom, when they have been thrown too many trials and cannot see an end. When you see that place, when you enter it, nothing surrounds you but despair and anger and…it's petrifying. Some people, maybe because they simply cannot handle it, maybe because their trails are exponentially worse than other peoples'…regardless of the reason, some people wind up stuck in that Dark Place. Some people embrace it, believing the Dark Place is their final stop, their one true place. Others manage to claw and tear their way out of it, but that takes a lot of hard work, a lot of dedication, motivation, and support, so not everyone can do that."

I swallow, sensing that she is speaking from experience. I know that Matim's life, in particular before I came along, was not the greatest. I know that she has had trials, though she has never told me of them. But to know that she saw the Dark Place…I do not know now if I wish to know what trials she faced.

"I think people like Joker…they fell headfirst into the Dark Place and they were a part of the people who couldn't get out, whether they tried or not. They were stuck. So Joker, unlike some people, decided to embrace it, to own it under the name of Joker." She pauses and returns to beading, "Perhaps he thought the Fates had decided to turn his entire existence into a joke and decided that instead of fighting it, he would embrace it, and he would show the Fates exactly how much of a joke he could be. He…embraced his sickness, I suppose."

"Desperation," I say softly.

"Perhaps. I do not know, I have never spoken to the man. Why did you question about Manta's intentions towards Annex anyway? Did Manta say something?"

"No, but…Manta has given me hints and told me how to become a better warrior, a better spy, a better soldier, a better hero. It is as if he is grooming me into becoming a worthy opponent."

Surprise flickers across her face. Just as quickly as it comes, it vanishes and she says, "You believe that if he wants you to become a worthy opponent of his that he will have to kill Annex, just in case Annex gets to become a worthy opponent."

"Yes."

"I hope he is not trying to turn you into his version of a worthy opponent then."

"Agreed."

* * *

**Gulf of Mexico : April 30, 2010 – 03:13 CDT**

I pull myself ashore, the oil-covered birds in my arms attempting to squawk. My very bones are tired, my mind is strained, and I want to cry.

I pass the birds off to Flash and pause for a moment, pulling off my helmet to simply breathe.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Nothing?" Flash questions, worry creasing his voice.

I shake my head mutely. No sign of the missing men. Everyone knows that they're probably dead by now. Unless they spontaneously developed the ability to breathe and survive in oil-infected water.

"I must continue to search," I say, staring at my oil-covered protective suit. I look up at Flash and my eyes flick to the birds, "Flash, the birds."

He nods sharply and zips off. I turn back to the water, cringing at the sight of the infected waters, my infected home. I glance back, barely noticing the cameras, reporters, coast guards and relief workers – most surface-dwellers, the Atlantean army is underwater in the few protective suits we have and waiting for more to arrive. The Atlantean soldiers waiting are aiding where they can, helping those Atlanteans who had been in the gulf during the disaster, the animals, the vegetation, etcetera, while attempting to create shields to keep the oil from spreading. I do not know the death toll yet. Frankly, I do not wish to know. Not now.

People – Atlanteans, my people – had lived where the oil now infects the waters. Some could have dared one another to get close to the rig of the surface-dwellers and been caught in the explosion.

I exhale and turn back to the water, securing my helmet once again and pulling out my waterbearers. Using my hydrokinesis I raise the water into a tunnel, forcing the topmost layer of oil to go above my head so that I touch as little of the oil as possible when diving back under.

I am positive I will have nightmares about oil.

I am only permitted to be right in the middle of the oil spill for two hours at a time. The suit, and I, has limits. It takes me an hour to get to the depths I eventually reach, where there are at least two inches of bloody oil smeared across the seafloor. It takes another fifteen minutes before I find the source of the blood floating in the water, stuck to the oil. A dead dolphin, its fins ripped to shreds, probably from the explosion. Its blowhole assaulted. Its carcass lain across the remains of a man.

For a moment, I cannot breathe. It takes me another moment before I remember that I must inform the League of my discovery.

"Aqua-" I clear my throat. "Aqualass to Aquaman. I…I found someone."

::: I am getting a lock on your coordinates Aqualass. I am heading there. ::: Annex Orin responds immediately.

::: Is it one of the missing? ::: questions Batman.

"There is little of the man left. His face is…burned and he is covered in both his blood and the dolphin's. I…it is difficult to tell."

I could throw up. But I am wearing a helmet and I know that I only have about thirty minutes before I should be out of the oil-infected water. It took me an hour and fifteen minutes to get down in the first place. Clearly, I am an idiot.

I move, unwilling to waste more time, and grab the dolphin's carcass in one bubble of water and the man's remains in another, controlled by my waterbearers. Quickly, I begin my ascent, blinking rapidly.

::: Head to the surface, Kalladura'ham. ::: Annex Orin orders.

"I am at the moment, Annex," I respond, carefully controlling my breathing, attempting to keep myself from either vomiting or bursting into tears.

It is not just a part of my home that is destroyed. My people were effectively attacked, people and animals are already dead, getting sick and slowly dying and I can barely see two feet in front of myself There's so much…so much…so _much_ and I just want it to end. Why would someone do something like this? Why would someone let this happen? Why would someone even dare to risk the lives of thousands of people and animals and…it needs to end.

Now I am crying. Great. I blame that on having four hours of sleep in the past three days.

I cannot sleep.

"Annex, please, take the dolphin, help him," I can hear myself plead when I spot Annex in his own protective suit, just as awkward as my own is. He nods silently and takes the dolphin from me, aware that I cannot take him up through the top layers of oil without hurting or humiliating him further. Annex is aware that he cannot protect the human's body from the oil at all, but I at least have a chance with my sorcery. Besides, the dolphin's place is with his brothers and sisters beneath the surface, not above, like the human's place. I need to get to the surface anyway. Annex can stand to remain underwater for a bit longer.

The water bubble breaks the surface first. I emerge immediately after the bubble, my artificial channels glowing, keeping the protective bubble around the man. I cannot keep that up and get him out of the water though. I'm too tired, too unfocused, and my vision is getting blurry. Instead, I pull the man's burned, bloodied corpse into my arms, blinking rapidly, and stand, making my way onto the shore.

There are relief workers there, and paramedics. They take the human's body from my arms in the instant I am out of the water.

"Kid, you need a break," Flash says, stopping in front of me, obviously concerned, even through his mask.

"I am fine," I insist stubbornly, aware that I am shaking and crying. I am incredibly grateful for the fact that my helmet covers my face but I am still aware of everything else. The oil covering my suit, slick and hideous, the blood stuck to the oil, blood of the man and the dolphin.

It is too cold. Why is it cold?

"You're taking a break," Flash insists, ignoring the fact that I take orders from Annex Orin, not him, except for in special circumstances. "Take off the suit. How much sleep have you gotten anyway?"

With shaking hands I remove the helmet. Still shaking, I look up at Flash, dimly aware of tears streaming down my face. I blink. The sudden blast of cleaner air turns my stomach. I swallow as I begin unhooking the suit and stepping out of it, answering, "A-About four hours."

Flash says nothing. I do not wonder why.

"In th-three days," I explain further, keeping my head down, trying not to show my face to the hero, the tears, again. "I could not f-find sleep."

My home, my _people_, have been hurt irreparably. My home is infected. Infected with a disease that will never stop spreading, never stop assaulting everyone and everything in its path.

"Four _hours_ in three _days_?" Flash repeats incredulously. His voice softens and he crouches slightly to get at my eye-level, "You can't do this to yourself, kid."

I do not bother to argue. I know that he is right, and I am trembling too much to bother with trying to argue.

"Come on," Flash's hand grasps my shoulder.

He leads me to the League's temporary relief base camp and makes me lie down. I sleep for thirty minutes before the burning oil drowns me and I shoot up, shrieking, my arms flailing.

"Jesus!"

I look over the side of my bed and spot Roy sprawled on the floor next to his boots, clutching his chest. "Fuck, K! Give a guy a heart attack why don't you?"

I half-smile, "Apologies, my friend." I frown as he rights himself, "What are you doing here?"

"Heard you got four hours of sleep in three days and you found one of the missing men. Came here to make sure you didn't try and go out there again to help because you'll wind up killing yourself if you do."

"Annex got you here."

"That too. What the hell was that anyway?"

"Nightmare," I shake my head. "It is nothing."

"Bullshit. You never shriek."

"It is nothing, I assure-" I stop at the look on his face. "I was drowning in burning oil and could not get the civilians out."

He grimaces, "You have the most messed up dreams."

"I appreciate that, Roy."

"Go back to sleep," Roy says, kicking his feet onto the bed. "I'm making sure you stay here and don't try and play the martyr."

I fight the urge to flip him off. Instead, I flop back down on the bed. I roll over, tug the sheet over my head, and attempt to find sleep.

I blame my exhaustion for finally giving me a dreamless 12-hour sleep even while Roy's feet pressed against my back.

* * *

**A/N: **You know when you know exactly what you want to write but words completely fail to work? Yeah. That was this entire chapter. And then David showed up nearly out of nowhere and decided that he was going to talk. It was interesting to write this, to say the least.

Used this article for the arithmancy b/c I was lazy and am not overly fond of numbers: www. beyondhogwarts harry-potter/ articles/ an-introduction-to-arithmancy .html

**Shout-out to my reviewers thus far: ViciousViper15, singergirl22, RainGoddess2040, Drownedinlight, Hitokage Higure, and the reviewer to hit nearly every chapter with some awesome words, Hybrid301. Mad love for ya'll.**

**R&R**


	7. Sha'lain'a 3

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice (DC) are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, parental fear**_

_**Edit: 04/02/13**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Sha'lain'a**

_"You cannot fully understand your own life without knowing and thinking beyond your life, your own neighborhood, and even your own nation."_

Johnnetta Cole

* * *

**3**

**Junction City, Ontario : November 2, 1990 – 22:32 CDT**

The cold wind whistles between the buildings, the faint echo of pan flutes dancing along the wind. Wolves howl in the darkness being steadily lit by the full moon. A coyote whines at an order while a murder of crows fly in the distance, their keen eyes picking out the depths of the alleyways and back streets and homes ensconced in shade.

I lean against the brick wall of an abandoned jazz club, my hair braided tightly and piled up beneath my toque. My hands are firmly stuffed in the pockets of my blue windbreaker that barely covers my midriff, while heavy brown boots and faded jeans cover my lower half. Beside me stands a self-proclaimed girl, who is really closer to a woman in my opinion, dressed exactly not for the cool November weather in a short, shiny black miniskirt, a grey spaghetti-strap tank-top about three sizes too small, chunky black combat boots, and a distressed, faded jean jacket. Her bitten nails are painted neon pink and alternating between twisting her various rings and playing with the small silver locket around her neck. Her shining black hair is chopped into chunky layers that fall to her chin and a large brown cowboy hat taken from her "grandfather" is balanced upon the chunky layers, throwing her shining crimson eyes into shadows and causing the faint glimmer from her pierced bottom lip and ears to dull.

She clicks her tongue against her teeth, causing her tongue ring to clank. I grimace at the noise and self-consciously run my right fingers along my newly-pierced right earlobe.

"Do you see anything?" I question, looking down my assigned side of the street at the house owned by a man who was bitten by a were-cougar. He's been in contact with the local pack so he knows how to deal with his monthly transformations but there's always a chance for a slip-up.

She shakes her head, pulling off the ring on her right thumb and moving it to her left, "No, this place is quiet. The birds aren't getting anything either."

I appreciate her not looking directly at me. As is common with her people she is terrifying without even trying. Most people, upon encountering her, wind up attempting to escape, even if all she is doing is standing there. All the blood drained from my face upon first meeting her but, apparently, I reacted better than most others because I didn't scream, run, try to kill her, faint, or "piss myself". Despite having gotten pretty used to her ability to instill fear in everyone by just looking at them she still makes me stiffen instinctively when she looks at me and I get the sense that I need to run away or at least prepare to fight. She will not try and hurt me though unless I give her reason to. Apparently, I am also rather unappetizing to her, too 'fishy', so the chances of her getting really thirsty and going after my blood are severely reduced. She prefers human blood, like most other vampires, and I'm not human.

I do not know her story, how she fell in with the West Pack of Junction City. I do not ask. All I know is that while she appears to be in her mid-twenties she was born around 80 years ago. Hence, why I am stationed with her. This is not her first, as she would call it, rodeo. She has dealt with were-creatures before and because she moves more similarly to me than the actual pack does she has become, essentially, my guide to the world of keeping were-creatures from hurting themselves or anyone else.

She says to call her Daphne.

"If nothing happens, what do we do?" I question Daphne.

She shrugs, "We go home."

"We wasted a night then."

She mutters something in Korean I don't catch, both because she spoke so quietly and because my knowledge of Korean is rather dismal despite her attempts to teach me the bizarre dialect of Korean she uses. Apparently, it is a combination of Korean from her parents – who were second-generation Korean-Canadians – and the English used in British Columbia at the time, with some added oddities courtesy of being around for 80+ years alongside the more supernatural forces of the planet.

"You're being educated, Kor'dia'ax," she says in a tone that I imagine would probably be similar to that of a tone of a matim being irritated by their daughter's clear disregard for the importance of education.

"Okay, but-"

She shushes me. She looks up at the sky and I follow her gaze. Within moments, two crows come flying over the rooftops, cawing. They land behind us, prompting us to turn and watch as the crows twitch. Their beaks retract as their bodies grow; their feathers disappearing and giving way to tanned complexions which, if you tilt your head and look properly, you can see the faint outlines of black feathers on. Their black eyes remain as coal and within seconds there is a wiry, naked boy of about fourteen crouched on the edge of the dumpster like a cat with a sharply pointed nose and a frown that creases his young face sharply. On the ground is a lean naked girl of about ten, perched next to a candy bar wrapper and old condom, her hair as dark as her brother's and falling over her shoulders in haphazard chunks.

"On MacRae," the girl reports, fear displayed in the darkness of her eyes.

"A new one is just turning," the boy adds, tensing at the thought.

"The Murder is trying to keep him from getting too far."

"Jason, Cale, and Tanner are heading there now."

Daphne swears. Cale and Tanner are some of the newer members of the West Pack, having finally managed to shift their human skins for wolf ones only a few months ago. Jason, their unofficial mentor, had been having difficulties keeping the twins from darting off with typical preteen arrogance.

"Get to Alpha," Daphne orders the siblings. "We'll get to MacRae."

The siblings nod sharply then exchange their human skins for crow ones to take to the air. Daphne and I dart across the street the instant they fly away.

The only reason I am able to keep up with her is because I am Atlantean. Anyone else, barring some of the skinshifters, would be unable to keep up with her.

MacRae is a street on the west side of Junction City and therefore right within the territory of the West Pack. It runs past Reston Recreational Centre, giving us a decent space to fight in with the centre's parking lot, but also endangering the Faeries that have a tendency to hold raves in large centres ranging from recreational to shopping after their business hours.

When we reach the edge of MacRae we find the crows pulling away as a man writhes on the ground, shrieking and growling. Cale and Tanner are still in their wolf skins and tense a good couple metres away from the writhing man while Jason, completely naked and in his human skin, crouches next to the man and attempts to calm him. Daphne vanishes in an instant, well aware that her presence would just antagonize the new were-creature further and we did not need that.

I look at Cale and Tanner questioningly. Tanner nods to the left where a car crashed into a streetlight. The car's driver door is torn clean off with scratches destroying the upholstery. Ouch, experiencing your first transformation while driving. Terrible.

"_ARRHWOOO!"_

The man lurches up and back, howling in agony as his muscles bulge and his bones break then reform, his spine lengthens, his hair grows thicker and begins exploding from his flesh.

Jason rolls backward, shifting back into his wolf skin and I hastily pull off my boots, preferring to fight in bare feet even with the dusting of snow across the ground.

The man hits the ground again, his nails-turned-claws scratching across the pavement as his shoes explode and his clothing is ripped to shreds. He howls, snapping up onto his hind feet, his arms out and displaying his chest, neck and head to the gleaming light of the full moon. His jaw lengthens, turning into a snout, and his teeth twist in his gums, turning pointed and causing blood to drip from his mouth as the new teeth form before the new gums, tearing his gums excruciatingly. The pain elicits another howl and whine from him, and his massive tail flicks through the air as his head snaps back down. Gravity combined with instinct sends him falling back down to the pavement.

Jason collides with the were-wolf an instant before he hits the ground on all fours. The were-wolf snarls and swipes at the smaller wolf, his new and instinctual understanding of his new body still untrained and therefore unable to get a hit on Jason.

The were-wolf rolls sharply back onto his feet, crouched on all fours despite the fact that he seems more humanoid than that and could conceivably stand on two feet. He lunges at Jason, who darts away as Cale and Tanner begin snapping at the were-wolf from behind. The were-wolf turns sharply, sending one clawed hand the size of a garbage-can lid into Cale's side. Three deep scratches appear on Cale's side as he hits the ground and rolls, whimpering and hissing. Tanner immediately moves to his brother's side, prompting the were-wolf to move to attack him.

A flash of black with brown atop appears out of nowhere, colliding with the were-wolf's legs and sending him crashing to the ground. The flash freezes, revealing itself to be, unsurprisingly, Daphne, and I nearly faint at the sight of her. Her nails have lengthened and strengthened themselves into talons, her eyes are narrowed sharply seemingly overtaken by her crimson irises, I can spot every muscle in her body tense and ready to move, and she's dislocated her jaw so that her mouth is opened wide to reveal the full extent of her pointed teeth, including her large, shining fangs. She snarls at the were-wolf, clearly identifying herself as the largest threat to pull his attention away from the twins and Jason as Tanner gets his brother away from the fight and Jason moves behind the were-wolf.

I toss my jacket atop my boots and dart towards the centre, intending on warning the Faeries if they haven't already realized the were-wolf's presence. Hopefully, trying to warn them will put me on their good side. I do not ever want a Faerie to be my enemy. A Faerie will obliterate me easily, I hold no illusions otherwise.

I press against the Centre's front doors and, unsurprisingly, find them locked. Quickly, I send a surge of electricity through the front doors, messing with the security system, and then shove the doors open, darting into the Centre quickly. Instantly I am assaulted by bright, metallic lights flashing through the building and pounding music causing the floors and walls to shake. Two Faeries look up at me almost immediately, having opted to take a moment for themselves in the large foyer of the Centre.

Faeries always have something about them that is too intense. Some may be too blue, some may be too skinny, some may simply have a too intense presence, or be too unnoticeable. Regardless of whatever their 'something too much' is, everyone notices it. They notice that and they notice the ethereal aura they carry around them courtesy of their intimate connections to most everything that could even remotely be considered 'otherly'. Most people wind up hostile towards them, their instincts rise up and tell them to _stay the fuck away_, they simply look at or interact with a Faerie and become uncomfortable. When you're aware of the reason as to why you feel uncomfortable around Faeries, as if they're something unnatural when, in fact, they're all more natural than you'll ever be, it is easier to ignore the uncomfortable feelings and instinct to get away.

The two Faeries I immediately encounter have that aura, as strong as ever.

The shorter Faerie appears to be a woman with unnervingly pale skin, beneath which I can spot some of her twisting, winding veins. She stares at me like a child who never learned that staring is wrong and her body is light, airy, and disturbingly delicate. Her eyes are too large and too pale even with the blue lines in the whites that mimic circuit boards and make her eyes seem unnaturally bloodshot. Her delicate face that makes her look about 10-years-old is framed by strands of white-blonde hair that have fallen out of her spiky ponytail. She's wearing a digital watch with flashing green numbers, a pair of army green cargo pants that end halfway down her calves, giving way to two pale breakable legs shoved into blue hightops. She appears to be drowning in the black sweater that is half-falling off her right shoulder and revealing a black bra strap. Over her ears are neon blue headphones connected to a matching wire that winds beneath her sweater. Her nails are painted a matching blue that is eerily similar to the blue graphic lines that mimic those in the whites of her eyes and spread across her thin, bony fingers.

The taller Faerie, a man, has the same light, airy, and disturbingly delicate body. His eyes are too large and too silver, his complexion is a shining bronze in the metallic lights that make my eyes water, and gold wires are twisting up through his brilliant black and blue dreads like millions of tiny wires that connect to his ears as twisting headphones. Like his partner, he has blue lines that mimic circuit boards that stretch through the whites of his eyes before poking out of the bony fingers revealed by his fingerless grey gloves. His dark green v-neck is tight across her chest and rides up his hipbones, showing part of his midriff, which is covered in more circuit board blue lines. Riding low on his hips are a pair of baggy grey cargo pants with bright purple sneakers poking out beneath their ragged hems. He looks downright skinny, almost skeletal, like his partner, but his face still has its baby fat and makes the jarring stare he focuses on me even more alarming. It is as if a child is staring into the essence of me.

"Were-wolf," I blurt out.

They stare at me.

I twitch and my hand hits the doorframe in a movement to leave.

The voice of the Faerie with the gold wires vibrates within my skull, _"noted."_

"_get out,"_ the Faerie with the neon blue headphones demands.

Mutely, I nod. In an instant I'm back outside and trying to recall how to breathe as the lights from inside the Centre reflect on the ground in front of me and the music pounds into my ears.

The hair on the back of my neck rises and I spin around, staring, wide-eyed, as the door I broke returns to its rightful place, sparks flying off the doorframe.

I cannot see the lights anymore, or hear the music. The Centre is silent with its doors closed.

"Kor'dia'ax!"

I whirl around and promptly find claws and a vicious mouth filled with sharp teeth snapping at my skull. I hit the ground, snapping my arms up instinctively and shooting a blast of electricity straight into the were-wolf. He whines as the blast sends him flying off me and in the next instant Daphne is after him, tackling him to the ground. I scramble to my feet, murmuring a quick healing spell on the small scratches across my arms, and dart away from the Centre, uncertain as to whether or not the Faeries were even bothering to get out.

"Kor'dia, help us!" I hear Tanner shout.

I spot him quickly, standing beside the twitching body of his twin brother still in his wolf skin. Hoping that Daphne and Jason have the were-wolf under control I dart towards Tanner and Cale just as Tanner returns to his wolf skin. I crouch beside Cale and gingerly lay my hands atop the lacerations in his side. Murmuring under my breath I focus my energy on fixing him, on stopping the bleeding and stitching up his flesh.

Another wolf – Sara – joins the fray and her partner slows, trading her wolf skin for her human one complete with sharp black hair, and deep-set brown eyes she shares with her younger brothers. She skids to a stop next to Cale and Tanner, her hands shaking, "Fuck, Cale, what the hell did you-"

"He will be fine, Chevy," I assure her. "I will heal him."

"Yeah, yeah, cool," Chevy straightens up, her eyes flicking to the fight occurring in front of the Centre between the feral were-wolf, Daphne, Jason, and Sara.

"I told two Faeries," I explain quickly as she looks back at Cale, "they did not leave. I…could not remain in their presence for very long."

"They never leave. They like fights too much and enjoy the prospect of seeing mortals being torn to shreds."

Her gaze moves from her wounded brother to the roof of the Centre where I can see a gathering of at least fifty sets of twin pale orbs peeking out of the darkness. My gut tells me the orbs belong to Faeries. Their eyes. They are focused on the battle, likely even with the music still pounding and the lights still flashing within the Centre, and their delight is visible even from a distance. The fight is a party to them. A rave.

* * *

**Junction City, Ontario : November 28, 1990 – 18:12 CDT**

He is an attractive boy.

His cheekbones are severe and sharp enough that I could probably cut myself on them, his eyes are a gorgeous shade of brown that seem restrained behind a mask of indifference, and his profile brings to mind the images of surface-world kings and emperors who ruled great empires.

"Coffee? Tea?" I question, suddenly acutely aware of my gills and webbing and how utterly unattractive they probably are to human men.

He looks up at me, turning the cover of his book so that I can see that it's a book on biomedical engineering. Is he in college? He looks too young. I watch, hoping to see a reaction to my age in contrast to his own as he takes in my scuffed brown boots, bare legs, black skirt, green turtleneck, my hands behind my back and the apron tied around my waist before he rests his eyes on my face. Pale green eyes, a complexion a number of shades fairer than his own, blonde curls piled back from my face in a haphazard twisting bun. Suddenly, I wish I had done what Chevy did and wore some make-up.

"Ah, hot chocolate, thanks," he says quickly before turning back to his book. He didn't seem to react at all to my youth. Maybe…he's reading the book for fun?

I skitter away from him, determinedly keeping my gaze on the ground away from Chevy's grandmother who is shooting me an amused smirk. I hurry behind the counter and begin busying myself getting the hot chocolate ready and checking on the elderly couple's tea. Chevy nudges me in the back, her bemusement obvious, "Kor'dia thinks a guy's haaaandsome and gooorgeous and wants to kiiissss him."

"Shut up," I retort, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks as I put the tea for the couple on my tray and then return to the boy's hot chocolate. I turn, landing myself directly beside Chevy as she adds whipped cream to her own hot chocolate. I look over the counter as I take the whipped cream from Chevy. He is sitting there, just staring at the book. He looks a little angry, maybe a little lost. Whatever he is, he is not content.

I add some extra whipped cream and chocolate flakes to his drink.

The café is quiet so Chevy's grandmother is milling with the couple, whom she apparently knows, and I move quickly to deposit their tea in front of them before heading over to the only other person in the café, the not-entirely-content boy in the grey parka and brown boots. I place the hot chocolate in front of him, ensuring that I offer him my most dazzling smile – I really hope I have one of those.

He looks up at me again and his rather sombre face cracks. His smile is surprisingly warm. He nods to me, "Thanks, ah…"

"Kor'dia'ax," I say quickly, leaning forward and waving my hand as if it's no big deal.

His eyes follow my hand and I promptly hide it behind my tray. He didn't see my webbing, right?

"Kor'dia'ax," he says, stumbling slightly at the unfamiliar name as he looks back up at me.

"Are you alright?" I question. "You seem…unhappy about something."

He picks up his mug of hot chocolate and looks up at me questioningly, "Why would you care?"

"People shouldn't be sad."

"Shit, sadness is a part of life," he points out. "Just like anger."

"I know, but it sucks if there's no one to cheer you up." I hesitate, glancing down at my legs where one of my scars is peeking out from beneath my skirt, "Believe me, I know."

He studies me for a moment then nods, "Being served a sweet drink by a gorgeous girl is encouraging."

I grin and duck my head, "I am happy I could help…uh…"

"David."

His smile could break hearts.

I smile, "David. Are you from around here? I've never seen you."

"I move around a lot," he explains. He looks pointedly at my tray, which I am using to hide my webbing, "You aren't from around here either, are you?"

"I move around a lot."

He smirks.

* * *

**Junction City, Ontario : January 2, 1991 – 18:26 CDT**

"You can't go with him, Kor'dia'ax," Chevy maintains, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater.

"I can take care of myself, Chevy," I argue.

"Then why are you going with _him_? He's weird, Kor."

"He's _smart_ and he's self-sustaining and he's…he's cultured and he's going somewhere Chevy!"

He told me once that he had huge plans, that he could see people all over the planet knowing his name.

Chevy sighs, opting not to pursue the usual argument that comes from 'David is weird', "Do you not think we're going anywhere or something?"

"You have the pack, and your family, and Daphne is…she will be loyal to you but she's a nomad at heart so…I cannot stay here, Chevy. I have to go someplace else. I have to be…someone."

"You _are_ someone. You're Kor'dia'ax. You're Daphne's sidekick and my best friend and the pack fish and-"

"Those…titles are who I am to someone else. I want – _need_ to be someone who is not defined through my relationships with everyone else. That's all I've ever been. First I was that cursed daughter and sister, then I was that dangerous, cursed prostitute and warrior, then I was a fugitive and now I'm the pack fish and a Vampire's sidekick!"

Chevy's earnest expression falls, "But…then why are you going with David? You're dating him. You're gonna be The Girlfriend."

"He's helping me learn more about the surface-world-"

"We've been-"

"Teaching me about Faeries and skinshifters and vampires, which is fascinating, but I need to know more about the human surface-world and David knows that. David has some amazing ideas and I think I can help him."

"So you'll be The Girlfriend and The Assistant?"

"No, I will be Kor'dia'ax. I will be _me_."

Chevy looks at me doubtfully, "You really think you know what you're doing?"

"No, but that will not stop me."

"I guessed it wouldn't."

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : October 1, 2009 – 20:35 UTC-03**

"We want to avoid making a statement of Kalladura'ham's kidnapping this early," Annex Orin explains, as calm as myself and Calvin, in other words, trained intensively in how _not_ to visibly lose your composure. "It would only cause panic and that is the last thing we need."

"You are certain that it was Black Manta who took her?" Calvin asks for the third time since David's followers pulled back and we realized we couldn't find Kalladura'ham.

Orin nods, "Yes. We are certain."

Calvin exhales heavily, his grip on my hand lessening. He turns to me, his lips spread into a thin line.

_We should. _He pleads.

_I still have my connections. We do not have to jeopardize our freedom. _I argue, my eyes narrowing.

_David will keep her as long as he wants._

_He knows I will go after her and he knows that he cannot beat me in combat._

_He has his followers; Zed, Sierra, Keith-_

_I have the pack, Daphne, Joa, Mai, Brian, and my old contacts from Silian._

_Then tell him and add the army into those ranks. The more people we have looking for her, the greater the chances we have of finding her. _

Neither one of us use the 'a' word. To use it would mean to think of the opposite.

"This place is secure, correct?" I question, looking around the room that has become the base for the hunt for my baby.

Orin nods, frowning at Calvin and me for our silent conversation, "Of course. Why do you ask?"

I hesitate. Calvin squeezes my hand.

I know he's right.

"The man you know as Black Manta I know as David," I explain. "He is Kalladura'ham's birth-father."

Orin blinks.

Once.

Twice.

"Pardon?"

"David and I met when we were teenagers. I became pregnant when I was 18. I left David shortly after because he was growing worse and worse and I didn't want my child to grow up in that environment. I gave birth to Kalladura'ham and a month after she was born, David found me."

"I was working for David back then," Calvin adds. Orin does a double-take.

"David demanded to see his daughter. I let him and when I refused to let him be around her he demanded that I send him, each year, a photograph of her and a letter all about her, on her birthday. I did and he kept his promise, not bothering us at all. Until now."

Orin blinks then turns to Calvin.

Calvin explains, "I joined David when I was a teenager. That's where Sha'lain and I met as well. I remained with David even after she left. He…from his knowledge gained from his Atlantean partners, followers, and informants – like Sha'lain'a – he managed to come up with a way to genetically alter a human. I volunteered for the procedure and found out afterwards that he had me genetically altered in order to infiltrate Atlantis and take it down from the inside-out. I defected, I had no desire to do that. I was disillusioned. I found Sha'lain'a, knowing that she was the only person who would be able to ensure that David wouldn't touch me and kill me. She helped me. And now we're here."

Orin remains silent for a moment then questions, facing me, "Does Kalladura'ham know any of this?"

"She knows about Calvin," I explain. "Not the identity of Black Manta. We requested that she not inform you of Calvin's former loyalties."

"I see. You think that Black Manta – David – has taken Kalladura'ham not because she is Aqualass but because she is his daughter and he believes he has some right to…see her?"

"Maybe." I shake my head, "I am not certain. David is a better tactician than me but every fight we have ever engaged in, I have nevertheless won. He knows exactly what I would do to him if he attempted to…to brainwash my daughter into aligning with him. He has a survival instinct."

"He has fought her before and never attempted to take her."

"I know," I state. "I do not know what he's planning right now."

"Neither do I," Calvin adds. "His plans, when I left, were becoming progressively more and more complicated and interwoven. This is probably just one step in a much larger plan."

"Such as?" prods Orin.

"He wanted to rule Atlantis when I left."

"He wanted to rule everything when I did," I say. "He was sick of being pushed around and looked down upon because of his race, his intelligence, and his autism. He was…angry at everyone who hurt him, the people who tried to "cure" him, all of those people who did those horrible things to him…he was furious. From what I have seen of him lately, he is not nearly as uncontrollable as he was when he was younger. He has learned how to channel his anger and frustration."

"He's gotten more dangerous," Calvin summarizes.

"Do you think he'll hurt her?" questions Orin.

I shake my head, "No. Not intentionally at least. If he decides to try and experiment on her it may be a side-effect but it won't be intentional."

"Experiment?" Orin repeats, alarm spreading swiftly across his face.

Calvin nods, "He enjoyed fine-tuning genetic alteration when I left. A Human-Atlantean child would attract his attention, especially with her being his biological daughter."

"We need to find her," I say. "We need to be out there looking for her _right now_."

"I have people looking but if you know of where he might be, please, tell me," Orin says.

I look at Calvin. I shake my head, "No, I don't know where he'll be, but I do still have my contacts from the surface-world so if she's there, they'll find her."

He nods, "Alright, do what you need to do." Orin looks at Calvin, "You too. You two know Black Manta better than any of my soldiers. Find him."

"You do not have to tell us that, Orin," I point out. "She's our daughter. We started looking the moment we discovered she was missing."

I hope that Daphne gets a lead soon.

* * *

**A/N: **FYI, the Sha'lain'a chapters are going to remain shorter than the Kalladura'ham ones. They'll probably all be about this length. It makes more sense for what I need Sha'lain'a to do.

And so my love affair with Urban Fantasy continues…I get far too much enjoyment out of writing the Faeries. Far-far too much.

Fun fact: originally, Daphne was a teenage skinshifter, essentially, Chevy. Then I decided I wanted a vampire. So Daphne became a vampire and the teenage skinshifter part of her became Chevy, who then got twin younger brothers. I am quite happy with this separation.

Skinshifters (including some of their mythology) and the idea of mythical-creature raves in various public centres I borrowed and twisted to suit my needs from Charles de Lint's various works. The were-creatures and my interpretation of vampires are, however, mine and any similarities between them and other were-creatures & vampires are coincidental/there so that my were-creatures & vampires are actually recognized as were-creatures & vampires in Western pop culture (ie: my dom. pop culture influence).

**Shout-out to those who've already named this story one of their favourites and/or put it on their alert list: Ayame . Tenou, ElementPriestess, Hitokage Higure, kakashiluckyblackcat, Lil' Bunny Lynn-Lynn, naien543, phoebus1991, RainGoddess2040, ViciousViper15, AllBlueChaser, Densharr, Elsandry, eternalwings15, foxfire flamequeen, Hybrid301, HyperionTheWatcher, Jositree, NemesisMuse, & UninhibitedAmbitions; Mad love for ya'll!**

**I love your reviews!**


	8. Kalladura'ham 5

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, as well as Twitter, Facebook & Tumblr, are not owned by me._

_Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 101: Independence Day.  
_

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, mentions of sexism and racism  
**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_It took me a long time not to judge myself through someone else's eyes."_

Sally Field

* * *

**5**

**Atlantean Embassy, Washington D.C. : May 7, 2010 – 16:46 EDT**

"_I think the little girl should be staying home and letting the big boys handle the big fights."_

A rampage of sexist and racist jabs runs through my mind as I recall the article labeling me as, essentially, a girl who didn't have the capacity nor the ability to be a sidekick much less a superheroine, and certainly not an ambassador of Atlantis to the surface-world, all because I dared to cry during the Gulf Disaster and was kidnapped months earlier by Black Manta. No mention was made of the times the other sidekicks had been kidnapped or beaten or cried. Just me, and I held no illusions that it was because anyone was concerned about me. The radio hosts, news casters, and journalists that had slammed me, occasionally under the pretense of caring for my safety and the safety of civilians, was fueled by usually subtle but nevertheless present sexist and racist discourse.

I do not live in a bubble. I have been confronted by sexist and racist attacks, but most of those have been courtesy of criminals, while most of the racist and sexist talk not from criminals that I heard when I was first starting out as a protégé was overshadowed by my youth.

I sit in Annex's office, waiting while he convenes with Ambassador Ges'ark and others to organize a response to the verbal and written attacks against me which have, in some cases, grown steadily worse over the years.

I am still shaking from the attacks, questions running through my mind, fears that perhaps I am not good enough, perhaps I am _just a little girl_ and that is, somehow, a terrible thing, an insult of the worst degree.

I am sitting on the floor across from Annex's desk, my head clutched by my hands and resting between my knees in an attempt to keep from either exploding or crying. When I saw the first article I was able to, while be angry and humiliated, brush it off pretty easily and ignore it as I usually did. Then I saw the second one, and heard the third, saw the fourth, and they just kept on coming. I closed the Internet browser then and had to take fifteen minutes to just breathe before I reopened the browser and pulled up Pansy's tumblr where she was posting furious responses to the articles and comments, pointing out, logically, that it was my home that had been effectively destroyed and could anyone from the surface really imagine what the hell the ocean looked like after that disaster? I read through that, followed by her and Kodi's Facebook and Twitter pages, and promptly began crying because the backlash they had unleashed upon the reporters, news casters and journalists was so _intense_ and so _gratifying_, but it was also accompanied by some comments that further degraded me. Pansy responded to those comments furiously while Kodi simply removed them when he could and, according to the series of texts that Pansy had been sending me since the internet had begun responding to the insanity, he had defriended and blocked every single one of those people.

I have the best cousins but I am still humiliated.

_What if they're right? What if I'm not cut out for this? What if…what if…but I am, I am, I have to be._

I pull out my cell again and scroll through Pansy's texts.

-Don't believe them, K. They're being assholes.-

-If someone says shit like that to your face, let me punch'em—

-You're a BAMF-

-Love u cuz-

-You're a boss, don't let'em get u down-

-Sexist, racist, bigoted pieces of shit, all of'em-

-*hugs*hugs*hugs*xoxoxoxoxo-

-Kodi 2 *hugs*hugs*hugs*, & the parents *hugs*hugs*hugs*-

-Have ur parents punched anyone yet?—

-Kodi de-friended and blocked every1 who's an asshat-

-Plz tell me the Boss is gonna go out and hit some asshats-

-No. Batman & Boss. Scary times 2. We don't want no recoveries.-

-Nononono. Batman + Boss + 3 Stooges + Other Mentors Who Be PO'd + SuperLadies of Awesome Might. Ultimate Win.-

-But you get first punch, obvs.-

-K=BAMF Boss + HBIC + CrazyAwesome-

-Sexist/Racist/Bigoted Asshats=Not even coal for x-mas-

-SANTA DOES NOT APPROVE-

-Totally setting up a donation fund for research into fixing the gulf-

-Problem. I don't know how to set up a donation fund-

-FML.-

-Stop doubting yourself. Listen to Pansy.-

-Stop it.-

-Seriously, K, if u don't stop it I will reach through this phone and shake u until you stop-

-*INFINITE HUGS*-

-* !$-

-Just read another. Am posting and ripping apart. Shall be fun.-

-Mari, Gabbi and Rachel r with me & swearing at ppl 4 being asshats-

-WE ARE RIPPING APART THIS ARTICLE WITH THE SHEER AWESOMENESS OF LOGIC! FEAR OUR MIGHT AND THE PERFECTION THAT IS AQUA-FUCKING-LASS ASSHATS!-

-I do not have a word strong enough to sufficiently express my hatred for those asshats-

-Dude, check out the fansite, it's covered in support 4 u. Ppl r pissed—

-Super cool post on the site's forum fyi-

-From RockinR u got basically an essay saying that u r awesome and an inspiration-

-also, that the ppl saying that shit about u r racist misogynists-

-u should keep doing what ur doing cause there needs to be more women and POC in the League-

-also, u r a boss and good at fighting and shit and should totes lead the League-

-Cause ur awesome-

-Last txt was all me, btw, but basically summarizes what RockinR was saying-

-Sort of. RockinR has got some language skills that will never be properly seen via text. Read it. Girl needs attention for her essay-writing skills & her very valid points-

-I like RockinR-

I lean back, returning my cell to my pocket, and stare across the room at the large window that looks out onto the water. I wish to train. I am growing angrier, looking out the window. I need to punch something that isn't so fragile that it will break under my fist.

My decision made, I stand sharply and stride out of the office. I head down the corridor to the back-most rooms, determinedly ignoring the gaze of anyone I cross, and descend in the elevator to the basement gym Annex had installed the first time he spent an extended amount of time on the surface. I change into the Atlantean training uniform I have stored in my locker, stretch, and then sit on the bench beside the training dummy to strap on my weights.

Once my weights are firmly strapped to my wrists, ankles, and belt, I move to the large circle mapped on the floor to begin going through my forms.

I am so engrossed in my training that I barely register the presence of another.

I turn and my kick is blocked by a metal bracelet worn by the one and only Wonder Woman.

I set my foot down, staring at her with wide eyes.

She smirks and advances. Instinctively, I dart backwards, covering my centre. I duck and move forward as she lashes out with a punch. Quickly, I send a punch at her core which she blocks by grabbing my wrist. I move forward, grabbing the back of her neck with my free hand and slamming her down as I bring up my knee. Her grip on my wrist loosens slightly as my knee collides with her chin so I rip my wrist out of her grip and dart out of her reach.

A foot appears out of my peripheral vision. I turn sharply, simultaneously noting Wonder Woman's move into a leg swipe. I leap; flipping my upper body back and my lower body up to send Black Canary's foot flying right over my head and Wonder Woman's through the air where my knees had been. I twist mid-leap, and hit the ground in a plank. Promptly, I roll to the side to avoid Wonder Woman's punch to my face and am immediately forced to roll backwards to prevent myself from being stomped on by Black Canary. They advance without hesitation.

I block.

"Keep the battle on your terms," Black Canary says as I twist out of their reach and then dive-roll as Wonder Woman uses her speed to get behind me.

A foot collides with my gut. I skid across the floor and roll over my shoulder to try and get back to my feet. Wonder Woman gets to me before I can and twists my arm behind my back to assist in pinning me to the floor.

"Orin was right," Wonder Woman says from above me. "You are a good combatant."

I feel as though I should have a reaction to that compliment beyond confusion.

"I'm assuming that you didn't try and get the battle on your terms because you were trying to figure out why we were attacking you," Black Canary says as Wonder Woman releases me and Hawkwoman walks forward from the edge of the gym carrying four bags.

Awkwardly, I nod, standing, staring at the three heroines.

"Don't do that."

I nod.

"I am Diana," Wonder Woman says with a warm smile. "I have often informed Orin that he should stop trying to hide you from me." My confusion must have shown on my face because she chuckles, "I believe he thinks that you will move to Themyscira if we speak."

Visit, certainly. But move? Really?

Hawkwoman nods to me, smiling, "Call me Shayera."

"It is an honour to meet you, Wo-Diana, Shayera," I say earnestly, having already met Dinah through Roy. "My name is Kalladura'ham…though I suppose you already know that. You are here because of the articles, are you not?" I question, seeing that as the only logical reason.

"Partly," Black Canary admits with a shrug, "Orin cannot quite…relate to this situation. Neither can the boys, and would you really prefer to tell Batman your irritations about this?"

She has a point.

"Also, it was an excuse for Shayera and Diana to meet you that Orin couldn't make up an excuse against. Again."

"Annex has created excuses to prevent you from meeting me?" I repeat, raising my eyebrows at Wonder Wo-Diana and Hawk-Shayera. I am much less surprised by Annex making excuses than I am of the fact that Wonder Woman and Hawkwoman apparently actively attempted to meet me.

Shayera nods in confirmation.

Diana questions swiftly, a smile still on her face, "How would you like to join us for dinner?"

I blink. Is she serious? "Um, ah, I would be – that is – of course I would love to. I will have to inform Annex-"

"He knows," Dinah assures me.

"Besides, we'd be taking you even if he said no," Shayera says.

My eyes dart from woman to woman, wide. "I…okay. Yes, I will just have to…" I gesture to my training uniform and weights as I begin backing up to the locker room, "er, change."

"So do we," Dinah points out as Shayera lifts four bags presumably belonging to them.

I pause, "What type of restaurant is it that I cannot go in uniform?"

"Here," Dinah takes one of the bags from Shayera and passes it to me, "I wasn't sure if you had a surface-world dress so I brought this for you, and some shoes. You can't go barefoot in the restaurant."

I take the bag gingerly, silently hoping that the bag does not contain a dress that will irritate my gills.

Although I am of the opinion that going in uniform would be more comfortable, all four of us are wearing surface-world clothing that is meant for a formal restaurant. Diana, with her usual bracelets and unmistakable face, wears a simple pair of black pumps and a deep blue knee-length dress with thick straps trimmed mildly in faint silver. Shayera's flowing yellow and white shirt is backless – which I suppose is more comfortable for her wings – and her legs are covered by a pair of enviously comfortable-looking black pants above strappy heels. Dinah is wearing her Black Canary jacket, partly to be recognized, I think, over a standard little black dress with long sleeves. I was given a pair of brown t-strap heels and a plum dress to wear that happily displays my artificial channels and manages to not irritate my gills courtesy of the lone strap over my right shoulder. The dress falls nearly to my knees, longer than I am used to, but is snug to my body so is slightly more similar to Atlantean attire than it otherwise would have been.

We raise quite a kerfuffle when we walk out of the Atlantean Embassy. Photographers are everywhere. It is only when Diana gave them a quote and a 'photo of the ladies' (as one photographer called it) that she managed to get them to disperse through what I am reasonably certain was little more than sheer force of will.

She has dealt with the press since WWII. I suppose her experience should show in some way.

We pile into Dinah's car and within moments are winding our way through the traffic, heading towards one of Diana's favourite restaurants.

I realize quickly that the reason we wind up at the more formal restaurant is because it is rather inaccessible for the press. The owners are quite used to Diana, a Princess, dining in their establishment – I vaguely recall Annex mentioning it as well – and because of my connection to Annex as well as Diana the restaurant employees effectively treat me as royalty as well, completely missing my unease with that fact. Shayera and Dinah, being recognized as superheroines even out of costume – I suspect this was intentional on Dinah's part, seeing as she is still wearing her Black Canary wig and jacket – and in the company of a princess and a girl quite close to royalty, are treated as nobles by the restaurant. It stands to reason that, with a high-profile clientele that includes such people as Diana, the restaurant would become adept at stopping the press. Indeed, they do an impressive job at keeping the press away from us and giving us a secluded table at a back corner.

All four of us move for the seat closest to the corner, our training kicking in. After a moment of discussion via strong looks and gestures Dinah winds up taking the seat closest to the corner while Shayera sits across from her to give more room for her wings, Diana sits beside Shayera to use her familiarity with the restaurant employees to her advantage, and I wind up sitting next to Dinah and across from Diana by default.

The food is, in the words of Roy the one time we decided we would suck it up and try a fancy restaurant and spend actual money, _mother-fucking expensive_

I sincerely hope that I am not paying for this. I get paid well enough as Aqualass but I could still only purchase a glass of water from here. Even the appetizers are excruciatingly expensive.

"Order whatever you want," Dinah says, "Diana's paying."

That does not help whatsoever. It merely makes me not want to make a fool of myself and order something horrible by the standards of Amazons.

It is agonizing to decide but I finally do when our waiter – Ken – arrives and begins pouring our water. He is trained well at treating the clientele with minimal admiration and fanboying but I nevertheless continue to spot him sneaking glances at my channels, then looking at the water, then at the large tank of various crustaceans on the opposite side of the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I can spot Dinah smirking as she watches the waiter pour our water, glance at me, and somehow manage to recite the wine list and specials, mainly to Diana.

"Would you like me to," I gesture to the pitcher of water as he sets Shayera's water glass in front of her. He stares at me for a second, clearly having no idea what to say. I make the decision for him and allow my channels to glow as I manipulate the water in the pitcher freehand – it is more difficult than it looks but I can handle it for small amounts of water, such as a glass. The water rises from the pitcher and with a flick of my hand pours into Dinah's glass. Lightly, the extra water hovering in the air lands in my glass.

"Ah, thank-you," he says awkwardly, the tips of his ears darkening as he moves quickly to set Dinah's glass in front of her than move mine closer to me. "Sorry," he turns hastily from me to look at the older women, "would you like any wine?"

Once we order he scurries away, the remaining water in the pitcher sloshing dangerously.

Dinah chuckles, "You've got a fanboy, Kalla."

"He was merely interested in my sorcery," I shrug, idly making small waves in the water in my glass.

"I recall someone shouting a few months ago, asking if you'd be his prom date," Shayera mentions, somehow managing to appear sipping innocently from her water glass despite the smirk plastered across her face.

I deliberately attempt to not recall that moment uploaded to the Internet.

I fail and attempt to hide my burning face in my water glass.

"How are you holding up, with the media attention lately and the relief effort?" Diana questions as Shayera and Dinah overcome their smirking fits and I actually take a drink of water.

"I am well."

Diana shoots me a disbelieving look. Dinah turns and promptly glares at me. Shayera rolls her eyes.

I shrink slightly under their gazes and admit, my grip on my glass tightening, "It is difficult. I have never been so thoroughly insulted and torn apart by people before. There was the beginning coverage of my time as Aqualass that was questionably racist and sexist, but this is much worse. There are insinuations beginning to spread that the only reason I remain Aqualass is because I-" I hesitate then backtrack, "There are insinuations beginning to spread that Atlantis' version of mentor-protégé relationships are more similar to those of ancient Greece than…well, Atlantis, and that is the only reason for me remaining Aqualass."

"They're not bothering to learn of your culture," Diana says, clearly having some experience with that problem, "and are instead forcing their beliefs as to how your culture works onto the masses, few of whom have the correct knowledge of how your culture works."

I nod tightly.

"While disregarding the competency you've already shown," Shayera adds.

"They claim that the fact that I cried while helping with the relief effort makes me incapable of doing my job," I say.

Dinah snorts, "I'd like to see them try and get through that without crying."

"The League has seen the pictures of the devastation underwater," Shayera explains, grasping my hand from across the table. "It's horrific. I can't imagine how horrible it was when you went down there."

I just barely remember to loosen my grip on the glass before I break it. I release the glass and pull away from Shayera as Ken approaches with a bottle of wine and some glasses. I do not look at him as he distributes the wine to the others and assures us of the status of our meals.

When he leaves, I comment, staring at my hands in my lap, "I know that I am capable, but the continued accusations that I am not, all because of who I was born as, because of my sex and race, are infuriating, tiring and feed the little self-doubt I do have."

There is a moment of stewing silence and then Dinah speaks, "It _is_ infuriating, but you are good at what you do no matter what they say. You – we – just have to remember that we are here because we are capable, we are good."

Diana and Shayera nod in agreement.

"While you still have much to learn, you have earned the respect of the League, and that is regardless of what those ignorant racist and misogynistic fools think," says Diana firmly, her eyes locking on mine. "They don't get to decide who is and who isn't a hero or heroine. Your actions decide that. From your actions, as well as the little I do know of you, sister, I know that you are a heroine and warrior born."

I do not believe I have ever been paid a higher compliment.

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : June 29, 2010 – 19:52 UTC-03**

"Kalla, have you been experimenting with anything?" Matim questions as she runs her magic up and down my artificial channels, a frown creasing her face.

Annex, watching at the side, having requested to see what I needed done to me to do what I did as effectively as I did, frowns.

I raise my eyebrows at Matim, "What do you mean?"

"Medicine, sorcery, herbs, drugs, anything," she questions, pressing her fingers against my right shoulder and massaging the artificial channel running across it.

"No, of course not," I respond, utterly puzzled by her question. "Why?"

"Your channels are not as damaged as they usually have been since you began your training."

I blink, "What?"

"My question is _how_," Matim emphasizes, moving to my back. She explains, mainly for Annex's benefit, "Usually your channels have some scarring on them from when they were pushed too hard by you. Parts of their protective spells worn away by the onslaught of your energy and outside energy. You have not faced any powerful sorcerers, so perhaps that is why. Every other year as Aqualass you have faced powerful sorcerers or performed large feats of sorcery, perhaps…"

"But they were scarred and the spells were being worn down before I became Aqualass and regularly fought supervillains," I point out.

"True," she murmurs, pulling away and swimming back in front of me. "Did you come in contact with anything that could have strengthened your channels this past year?"

"No, nothing between last year's channel repairing and now."

Annex objects, "That is not true."

I look at him as he swims towards us. Lightly, he presses his fingers against my right forearm channel, "You did come in contact with one person who knows something of Human-Atlantean physiology and sorcery."

"You think…" Matim trails off and a silent conversation passes between her and Annex. Bizarre. Those are absolutely bizarre. What could they possibly be having conversations about?

"You did mention that Black Manta funneled electricity into your channels," Annex expands on his previous point, pulling his hand back.

I glance down at my forearm channels, grimacing, "You believe that Black Manta…changed me? Changed my physiology? In two weeks?"

"Our intelligence suggests that he knows someone highly-educated in sorcery. That person may know more than your matim about biological channels and if he combined that knowledge with his knowledge of Human-Atlantean physiology he got through Calvin, well it is possible that he had what he needed to accomplish changing your physiology in two weeks.

"The gas is still just knockout gas though, correct?" I question.

"We did confirm that."

I stare at my arms, my face contorting into one of discomfort and disgust, "Why…how..."

"He did manage to genetically alter Calvin very quickly and very effectively before the knowledge was relatively publicly available," Matim points out. "And those alterations did not harm Calvin in anyway. If there is one thing Black Manta knows, it's biology and how to manipulate it."

"He…he manipulated my physiology while I was unconscious," I say, immeasurably disturbed and revolted and terrified by that apparent fact.

"We don't know anything for certain," Annex says quickly, recognizing that I am heading towards a panic attack.

"It is possible that this is a residual after-effect of your exposure to that oil, which I doubt, or it may merely be a result of growing older," Matim suggests. "We will monitor it. For now however, I do need to repair your channels."

I frown, "I thought-"

"They are not as heavily damaged as they usually are, that does not mean that they are not at all damaged," explains Matim. "Excuse me, Orin."

"I'm putting you on leave for the next week so we can monitor this," says Annex. "If it is an after-effect from the oil exposure then everyone else who was involved will need to be checked out. If it isn't, we'll explore other possibilities."

I nod, and at Matim's insistence lay down on the hard cot. I frown as a thought occurs to me, "Will I still be able to go to the Hall of Justice on the fourth?"

I had been attempting to hide my excitement since he first told me a week ago of what was to occur on July 4, therefore it is no surprise when Annex smirks and remarks leisurely, "I suppose so."

I glare at the table, irritated by Annex's mock-cavalier attitude along with the realization that _my very physiology_ may have been _permanently altered by a supervillain_.

It is startling information. I do not think I can be blamed for being alarmed. I had just thought that Black Manta had been studying my physiology and I am capable of getting past that. This though…this possibility is frightening.

* * *

**Pearl Harbor, Hawaii : July 4, 2010 – 06:02 HST**

This would be a wonderful late birthday present were it not for the fact that I have no idea why this is occurring.

Nothing currently in the area holds anything of decent value for Killer Frost. Yet, she has decided to turn the place into the Arctic.

I do not understand.

I suppose she could be doing it merely for the jollies but that seems to be a thin presumption. Frankly, I do not care if that is the case.

She attempted to freeze the few civilians that were out this morning as well and that, combined with one of the comments courtesy of one of the civilians I saved from being frozen, _'God, you really do have a great ass'_, added to the fact that I really just want to go to the Hall of Justice instead of battling a supervillain, has made me simply not care for her motivations as much as I normally would.

"_God, you really do have a great ass." _

Really?

_Really?_

I recognize that I am an attractive individual. I am aware of that fact. I do not believe, however, that I should have to put up with the recently-turning-incessant comments on my derriere and other body parts. While I have had to put up with comments regarding my sex, body, and apparent lack of femininity or overabundance of femininity (it depends on the commentator) since I first became Aqualass, they were minimal, mainly, I believe, because of my apparent age.

I have always looked older than I am though, so at the age of 13 people apparently thought I was closer to 15. Now, at 16, people apparently think that I am closer to 18 or 19.

I have stopped looking at comments on videos of my fights or photographs of myself or Annex online. The comments have made me gag in disgust and want to punch someone. I am a gold-digger, according to some of the commentators. I am apparently sleeping my way through the Royal Family of Atlantis, according to other commentators. If I could have a coin for every time someone has called me a derogatory term either in regards to my sex, gender, presumed sexual orientation, race, status, presumed relationships, hair colour, and body weight (if I am not fat, I am butch, and if I am not butch, I am a freak, and if I am not a freak, I am someone's kink), I would be wealthier than Annex.

If I am irritable after a civilian I rescued comments, once again, on my body, then I believe I can be forgiven. My irritation is understandable.

The ability for the male superheroes that surround me to empathize with me over how I and other superheroines and politicians (I am, whether I like it or not, a politician as well as a heroine of Atlantis) are portrayed by some, admittedly, questionable media outlets and some irritating commentators, is limited by their experiences. Thank goodness for Black Canary, Wonder Woman, and Hawkwoman. Training with them has been glorious.

I had been humiliated at first by the treatment.

Then, partly thanks to my training with the female League members, I got angry.

Now, although still humiliated and insulted whenever confronted by such attitudes, I focus on my anger instead. I usually call out the sources of the attitudes, having learned that merely ignoring them usually results in them never stopping. At least, if I confront them, there is a chance that they will stop. If they continue merely to antagonize me I simply ignore them, refusing to give them the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of me, as that is what they are after.

I was unable to call out the civilian who commented on my butt, unfortunately, considering Killer Frost was still running around shooting ice out of her hands.

And still is. Currently.

I should be at the Hall of Justice right now, beginning the steps that will make me a full-fledged member of the Justice League as…someone other than Aqualass. I have yet to figure out what my name will be when I am a full-fledged heroine.

"Don't tell me you're not excited," says Annex with a smirk as he darts past me.

I flip back onto the half-frozen ship and quickly follow, "I am focused on the issue at hand, actually."

I do not mention my irritation with the civilian, which has tempered my excitement slightly.

Killer Frost manages to freeze Annex to the deck so I leap over him and pull out my water-bearers, forming twin maces that I raise over my head. Ice covers my water-bearers, turning them into one large ball of ice. I land in front of Killer Frost and bring up the ice ball in an improvised hit to her jaw. She flies backwards and crashes to the ground, unconscious, and likely with a very sore jaw.

I knock off the remaining ice on my waterbearers and return them to my pack as Annex walks up to me, having freed himself from the ice, "Well?"

I smile, "Today is the day; of course I am excited."

* * *

**Hall of Justice, Washington D.C. : July 4, 2010 – 13:55 EDT**

"Batman, Green Arrow, Robin, Speedy." I pause upon seeing Speedy, then comment, "You look ready to start bouncing with excitement, my friend."

Even through his mask I know that he is rolling his eyes at me.

I nod to him and Robin, "I heard you had encounters with ice villains as well."

"Icicle Jr. Small-time, Princess," Speedy crosses his arms.

Robin nods in agreement, "Yeah, Freeze was totally underwhelming."

"That is better than the alternative," I point out. "I presume the Flashes are late, as usual?"

Robin laughs, "What else?"

"Today is the day," Batman says, prompting us to turn and look at the imposing Hall of Justice.

"Welcome to the Hall of Justice," says Green Arrow, pride lacing his voice.

"Headquarters of the Justice League," Annex adds.

That is a fact which never fails in being odd to me. There are tours open to the public given in the Hall. That is hardly conducive to conducting League activity, including investigations that many would like to get information on.

"Aw man!"

The males and I turn to find Kid Flash and Flash stopping sharply behind us. Kid Flash crosses his arms and frowns in irritation, "I knew we'd be the last ones here."

I smile softly, facing Kid Flash completely as Robin moves to greet him.

"You have a talent for arriving late," I comment as Kid Flash slides up to me, grinning.

Immediately, his grin disappears and he frowns at him, "Thanks. That's always the talent I wanted to have, Princess."

I shoot him an unimpressed look at the nickname. Thus far I have only permitted Speedy to use the nickname, as well as some of the mentors who decide to use it, mainly to tease me. I justify Kid Flash's ban from using that nickname as a precaution to ensure that he does not call me 'Aqualicious' or 'Babe' ever again while we are in costume. Robin just ignores the nickname of 'Princess' completely and decides to call me Gills.

"I am glad we are all here," I comment as we turn and head towards the Hall of Justice where there is a crowd of people wielding American flags, superhero t-shirts and various cameras behind the ropes.

"Ready to see the Inner Sanctum?" questions Green Arrow.

Speedy grins, "Born ready."

"Have all four sidekicks ever been in the same place at the same time?" Kid Flash asks.

"Don't call us sidekicks," demands Speedy.

"Sorry," Kid Flash apologizes. "First time at the Hall, I'm a little overwhelmed."

"You're overwhelmed, Freeze was underwhelmed, why isn't anyone ever just whelmed?" questions Robin as we get through the crowd and enter the Hall where, front-and-centre, just as the website displays, there are the statues of the seven founders. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, Flash and, of course, Aquaman, stand as statues in the entrance to the Hall, looming over the small guests impressively.

"Whoa, maybe that's why," Robin breathes.

Honestly, I am not surprised by the statues. One, there are large statues of Annex in Atlantis. Two, I looked at the website and took the virtual tour before coming here. I know exactly what is in the Hall of Justice that the civilians can see. I took notes.

We stop in front of a set of doors marked for 'Authorized Personnel Only' amidst the camera flashes, gasps, and occasional shouts of fan-love. The doors slide open, revealing Martian Manhunter and Red Tornado, which prompts another round of fan-love.

"Robin, Speedy, Aqualass, Kid Flash," Martian Manhunter greets. "Welcome." He turns and leads us through the doors, "You now have unlimited access to the gym, our fully-stoked galley, and, of course, our library."

The library we walk into is impressive but I rather doubt it is as expansive as the Royal Library and Archives of Atlantis. I spend hours in that place under the guise of training. I am reasonably certain that Annex knows I spend most of my time in there researching whatever catches my interest, not necessarily topics that will aid me as Aqualass.

Despite my fierce loyalty to the Royal Library and Archives of Atlantis I find myself scanning the titles of books, binders, and discs as I follow Kid Flash and Robin to a set of three chairs. I sit in one, and tear my gaze away from the shelves of information as Speedy stops, his shoulders growing tense, and our mentors pause with Martian Manhunter and Red Tornado.

"Quick debrief to discuss the coincidence of four ice villains attacking on the same day," Batman says to them. He turns to us, "We shouldn't be long."

A scanner descends from the ceiling in front of the doors marked for 'Justice League Members Only' and scans the adults robotically; / Batman, 02. Aquaman, 06. Flash, 04. Green Arrow, 08. Martian Manhunter, 07. Red Tornado, 16. /

The doors slide open and Speedy moves forward, snapping, "That's it? You promised us a real look inside, not a glorified backstage pass."

"It's a first step," Annex says diplomatically. "You've been granted access few others get."

"Oh really?" Speedy challenges, gesturing up to the tourists looking down on us from an observational window which, really, does not help my opinion of the Hall of Justice being a dubious place for Justice League Headquarters one bit.

I glance down at my chest quickly, ensuring that no one will get a particularly glorious cleavage shot that I will, one day, see on the Internet with accompanying comments regarding my 'rack'.

"Who cares which side of the glass we're on?" exclaims Speedy.

"Roy, you just need to be patient," says Green Arrow.

"What I _need_ is respect." He turns to face us, "They're treating us like kids. Worse, like _sidekicks_. We deserve better."

They surely have a reason for restricting our access to this location. I mean, I am not particularly pleased with it either but I rather doubt that having a tantrum will make it seem as though I am ready for more responsibility. If anything, a tantrum will do the exact opposite.

"You're kidding right?" Speedy questions as we don't agree or disagree. "You're _playing their game?_ Why? Because you think they play fair? Today was supposed to be _the_ day! Step one in becoming full-fledged members of the League!"

"Well, sure," Kid Flash agrees, "but I thought step one was the tour of HQ."

"Except the Hall isn't the League's real HQ!"

My eyebrows shoot up. At least my misgivings are apparently well-founded.

"I bet they never told you it's just a false front for tourists, and a pit stop for catching zeta-beam teleporter tubes to the real thing," Speedy continues, getting on a roll, "an orbiting satellite called The Watchtower!"

An…orbiting satellite.

A satellite? Really? That seems a bit overkill.

And 'The Watchtower'? Could there _be_ a more pretentious name?

I suppose I am not entirely surprised that this is a false front, but I am disappointed that Annex did not seem to trust me enough to let me know at least the name of the real HQ. I wonder if Anassa and the Prince know.

I pull my right knee up to my chest and wrap my arm around it, musing over this new information.

"You are not helping your cause here, son," Annex points out. "Stand down or-"

Speedy snaps, "Or what? You'll send me to my room? And I'm not your son!" He turns to Green Arrow, "I'm not even his. I thought I was his partner. Not anymore." He chucks his ridiculous feathered hat to the floor. My eyes widen as he turns sharply, stalking past us, "Guess they're right about you three, you're not ready."

I dart after him, grabbing his shoulder, "Roy, I am certain that there is a good reason and we can work-"

"Don't be naïve Kalla," he shoves my hand off his shoulder, glaring at me. "They'll never take you seriously like this," he looks me up and down, "you'll just keep being that defenceless little girl in that protective bubble."

My mouth drops open.

He did not.

He did _not_.

"_Roy, _you-"

He walks to the doors. I stride after him, abruptly shutting my mouth then snapping, reaching out to him again, "That was completely-"

The doors slide shut behind him.

"Aqualass."

I stop at Annex's voice. I reach out to the doors again, my hands twitching in anger. Sharply, I pull my hands back and turn around to face the others just as Superman's face appears on the large monitor at the back of the room next to the League Members doors.

::: Superman to Justice League. There has been an explosion at Project Cadmus. It's on fire. :::

"I've had my suspicions about Cadmus, this may present the perfect opportunity to-"

Zatara cuts Batman off, appearing on the screen in a separate window, ::: Zatara to Justice League. The sorcerer Wotan is using the Amulet of Aten to blot out the sun. Requesting full League response. :::

Batman looks at Superman, "Superman?"

::: It's a small fire, ::: the Kryptonian reports, ::: local authorities have it under control. :::

"Then Cadmus can wait," says Batman. He sends a message to the League, "All Leaguers rendezvous at Zatara's coordinates, Batman out."

As myself, Robin, and Kid Flash approach the group, Batman turns to us, "Stay put."

"What? Why?" asks Robin.

"This is a League mission," explains Annex.

"You're not trained-"

"Since when?" Kid Flash cuts off his mentor.

"I meant you're not trained to work as part of this team," Flash clarifies, logically, I grudgingly admit.

"There will be other missions," Annex promises, "when you are ready."

"But for now," demands Batman, "stay put."

I purse my lips in irritation.

First the media, then Roy, now this. This is tremendously annoying, people questioning my abilities. I realize that I am not trained to work as a part of the League particularly effectively but if I do not even know where their HQ is then how am I ever going to wind up a part of the League? When will I ever _not_ be Aqualass, that little girl in the boys club who can never, according to some particularly irritating individuals, quite measure up when compared to the boys merely because I happened to be born not as the sex in power, nor, I suppose, into a high, advantaged, class.

As Pansy often says: Bullshit.

Wonder Woman, Hawkwoman, and Black Canary respect my abilities. I will still have to be trained to work as a part of the League, but at least they recognize that I'm nearly there. Apparently, however, that respect does not extend to the male members of the League. _Wonderful._ Maybe I should move to Themyscira. Get some more respect, and acknowledgement of my abilities there.

"Tch, when we're ready?" Kid Flash snaps. "How are we ever supposed to be ready when they treat us like…like _sidekicks_?"

I swallow and find myself staring at the door our mentors left through, followed quickly by the door Roy left through. I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest, "I thought they trusted me."

"Trust?" Kid Flash exclaims. "They don't even trust us with the basic! They've got a secret HQ _in space!_"

I frown, "What else aren't they telling us?"

"I've got a better question," says Robin, "why didn't we leave with Speedy?"

Personally, I did not leave with him because I doubted that throwing a tantrum would be a good way to prove myself mature enough to become a League member (plus, I did not consider Themyscira at that moment). Additionally, I was not going to accompany him after that comment he made.

The latter reason seems naïve now.

I am the most responsible of the protégés, I know that, and if even I was not aware of the Watchtower nor was I apparently in the running to be a full League member despite having trained not only with Aquaman but also with Wonder Woman, Black Canary, Green Arrow, and Hawkwoman, then what chance do any of us hold in becoming full-fledged superheroes? Robin likely has the best chance out of all of us, if only for his close relationship with Batman. Yet even he…perhaps that is because of his age but…augh!

There must be another way to show them that we are ready. That our training – that my training with five superheroes and heroines as well as Anassa Mera and Prince Orm – did not go to waste. Perhaps we will need to prove ourselves. Again.

I lick my lips and look at Robin, hoping he has an answer, "What is Project Cadmus?"

He looks up at me sharply, a smirk spreading across his face, "Don't know, but I can find out."

He turns to the computer and promptly begins typing in commands, apparently easily hacking the system because it is identical to the one in the Batcave. He explains as he pulls up the information on Cadmus, "Okay, Project Cadmus, genetics lab here in D.C." He pauses, "That's it. But…if Batman's suspicious maybe we should investigate."

That is an encouraging thought.

"Solve their case before they do," I comment. "Poetic justice."

"Hey, they're all about justice!" Robin grins.

I gnaw on my lower lip, mildly concerned with how the adults will react to our self-assigned mission and, by extension, the safety of my job, "They said to stay put."

"For the blotting out the sun mission, not this," Robin points out, locating the loophole easily.

I should really become more adept at that.

"Dude," Kid Flash grabs Robin's shoulder. "Are you going to Cadmus? Because if you're going – I'm going."

They are obviously going no matter what. I feel myself beginning to back out though. I do not particularly want to be fired.

The boys turn to me, grinning hopefully. I sigh, shoving away my anxieties. At the very least I could accompany them and make sure they – Kid Flash, mostly – don't do anything rash. I nod and a smirk spreads across my features, "Just like that, we are a team on a mission."

"We didn't come for a playdate."

* * *

**A/N: **RockinR's identity is obvious, isn't it?

Also, the ladies of the League are just plain awesome. I hope you like how I've portrayed them here. I'm still not entirely comfortable with their voices – especially Shayera's, god woman, you are difficult to write – but I'm happy with the outcome. You just know, especially from the whole 'Athena knows the League needs more women' line that when they heard Aquaman had a female sidekick they were all over that like _yeeessss DO APPROVE. _

I figure Kalla knows Dinah through the Arrows so Orin really couldn't keep them away from each other. Besides, he was focusing on keeping Kalla away from Wondy (because island full of warrior women, hello, Orin knows that Kalla would be all over that once she actually saw it) and Shayera just happened to be caught in the middle of that situation.

FYI, Black Manta enjoys regaling me with his stories, but he is a very private and particular individual, and therefore most of his stories are completely useless until I figure out how to remove all of the excess junk and find the point. …I just thought you should know my relationship, writer-to-character, with Manta.

**I have a process when it comes to reviews. It mostly consists of gushing and smiley faces with the occasional excessively-excessively-vague hint thrown in there. Glorious.  
**


	9. Kalladura'ham 6

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, as well as The Little Mermaid, are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 101: Independence Day._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_My recipe for dealing with anger and frustration: set the kitchen timer for twenty minutes, cry, rant, and rave, and at the sound of the bell, simmer down and go about business as usual."_

Phyllis Diller

* * *

**6**

**Project Cadmus, Washington D.C. : July 4, 2010 – 17:26 EDT**

After some preliminary research – insisted upon by me, I _hate_ going into missions essentially blind – the three of us head to the Cadmus facility, a contemporary two-storey building with nothing particularly remarkable about it. That is, nothing particularly remarkable beyond being near water, which I make note of habitually. Kid Flash remains with Robin and I for a bit before running ahead as we hear civilians shouting for help.

Robin and I speed up but are hopelessly lost in the dust, just barely managing to keep up long enough to catch sight of Kid Flash nearly falling off the building. He manages to grab a windowsill but has also apparently placed the civilians on the roof. The building is on fire. A fire that is being controlled by the firefighters, but a fire nonetheless. People should not be on the roof. Why did he put them on the roof?

I sigh at the sight and question Robin, who knows Kid Flash better than I, "Does he always have to run ahead? We need a plan, we need-"

Robin is gone.

His usual laughter spreads through the area and I look up at Robin darting over a fire truck. He uses his grappling hook to flip straight through the window of which Kid Flash is hanging from then turns back and pulls Kid Flash into the building. I sigh, mildly irritated by Robin's abuse of his ninja skills when I am attempting to come up with a plan to help us work together, and not wind up demonstrating exactly what not to do when attempting to impress the League – who work as a team regularly, by the way.

My only consolation at this point, I realize as I dart forward and pull out my water-bearers, is that I do not have to attempt to herd Roy as well as Robin and Kid Flash. That would be a nightmare.

"I need to borrow that," I say, stopping next to a pair of firefighters wielding a hose that is spraying water onto the fire. The water's path turns and heads straight for me. I spin the water around me and below my feet to create a swirling platform then use the rest of the water coming out of the hose to propel myself up on my platform in a move I had to improvise once to get a rather terrified little girl off a roof. She called me Ariel and refused to get onto the water platform unless I sang 'Part of Your World.' I did not know the words.

It was that event that made me watch _The Little Mermaid_ song clips to memorize the lyrics to every song just in case that happened again and the child was not quite as agreeable as the girl wound up being. (I managed to convince her to sing it instead.) A similar event occurred once after that so I patted myself on the back for my preparedness, and vowed to never watch those clips ever again.

The civilians stare at me, wide-eyed, as the platform stops rising in front of them and I order, "Step aboard." They hesitate, so I add, "Now."

Quickly, they hop onto the platform and grab onto my shoulders to keep their balance. I stand and they fall onto their behinds as I hop onto the windowsill then turn and lower the platform carefully to the ground, surrounding them in a protective bubble of water before releasing them and allowing the authorities to handle them. I hop into the room and frown at a) the lack of fire damage, and b) the fact that Kid Flash and Robin didn't even bother to try and help the civilians either by figuring out who was going to help the civilians or by actually getting up to the roof and getting them down.

"I appreciate the help," I say, holstering my water-bearers.

"You handled it," says Robin with an obvious smirk in his voice that only serves to irritate me more. "Besides, we're here to investigate. Poetic justice, remember?"

I do believe that Batman permits stranded civilians to take precedence over investigation. If he does not, well, then I have a problem with Batman.

I do not say that. I merely step out of the room and look down the hallways, noting the few signs outside the doors before staring at the elevator at the end of my immediate hallway. I catch a glimpse of inhuman red eyes, large, sharp horns, and a thin, bony, likely male physique before the elevator doors close.

Sharply, I dart towards the elevator, prompting Kid Flash to follow.

"There was something in the-"

"Elevators should be locked down," Kid Flash says as I press experimentally on the down button.

Robin pushes past me, frowning, as he pulls up his wrist computer's holographic interface, "This is wrong. This is a high-speed express elevator; it doesn't belong in a two-storey building."

"Neither does what I saw," I add, silently amending that mentally to be _'doesn't belong in a two-storey surface-world building'_. There are races with horns and red eyes in Atlantis.

Frankly, there is little to do with appearances that could alarm me. When I was told that Martian Manhunter was an alien who shapeshifted because his appearance was regarded as frightening by most, I was confused. I live in Atlantis. There is no – no matter how much people wish to argue it – standard appearance of Atlanteans. Martian Manhunter, by my standards, does not look particularly alarming, and I rather doubt that his true appearance would be all that alarming, especially in comparison to some of the Atlanteans I know.

I dig my fingers between the elevator doors and brace myself as I pull the doors apart, grunting. Thank Poseidon I had the foresight to train with weights.

I look down the elevator shaft. I cannot see the bottom. It is definitely not a two-storey elevator shaft.

"And that's why they need an express elevator," Robin says, ducking beneath my right arm. I move out of the way and he shoots his grapple-line at the top of the shaft. It sticks and he promptly leaps down the centre of the shaft. I leap to the grapple-line, grab it, and promptly follow Robin down the shaft, silently making note of the number of sub-levels. Kid Flash follows.

Robin's line ends at sub-level 26. He promptly hops onto the edge of the shaft next to the door and begins hacking the security system. I land beside him and help Kid Flash get beside me before Robin announces that the system is hacked. I move immediately and pry open the doors.

We wind up in a very large room filled with what seem to be containers of some kind. I wonder what they hold.

"Welcome to Project Cadmus," Robin comments drily.

Okay, but what _is_ it?

Kid Flash gets a step into the room then promptly takes off as a blur of colour. I hiss after him, moving to try and grab him but failing spectacularly, "Kid!"

I freeze as a parade of massive grey creatures with red lines, dark spikes and red eyes rumble across the opposite end of the room. Kid Flash skids and falls backwards, narrowly avoiding being brushed by the first creature. He rolls then and vanishes from my view on the opposite side of the first creature.

Please tell me he did not get stepped on. _Please._

I can feel my heart in my throat as I dart forward with Robin. My heart remains there until I catch a glimpse of Kid Flash's bright yellow uniform and then he darts around the parade of creatures and skids to a stop next to us. We just stare, wide-eyed, at the massive, grey, gorilla-esque creatures with the smaller, Chihuahua-size creatures riding on their shoulders.

I would not be surprised to see such creatures in Atlantis. Here, on the surface, this is a little odd.

"Nothing odd going on here," I remark drily, watching as the parade of creatures turns a corner.

"I hate it when he does that," Kid Flash comments.

I straighten up sharply realizing that Robin has vanished. Again.

Robin's laughter echoes from the direction the creatures had come from. Kid Flash jerks forward immediately, a blur as he instantly sprints toward Robin. I purse my lips in irritation at both of them advancing without coming up with a plan, or informing me that they were actually moving on. With a mental sigh, I sprint after them.

Yes, I am definitely thankful that Roy is not here as well. He would have probably cursed by now, if not already darted forwards with no plan. Thankfully, his tendency to dive right into situations was tempered slightly, reportedly, due to our first mission together involving those traffickers and then another mission we went on together wherein he left me, again, with no plan, and I got hit by a bus as a result.

I was fine. It was only bus. Roy nearly wound up working himself into a conniption when he saw me get hit. Green Arrow was similarly distressed, actually, when he arrived to the tune of Roy freaking out and completely missing the fact that had I known he was doing what he was doing instead of being completely in the dark I would not have gotten hit by the bus. Annex, conversely, was not concerned in the least. Granted, he was concerned with how I wound up getting hit by a bus but he was not concerned with my health after being hit by a bus. He has seen me take the hit of some very powerful people so a bus is, frankly, not that threatening.

But really, how difficult is it to keep people informed?

We have com-links for a reason, _Robin._

And not everyone is as fast as you, additionally, fast is not necessarily good for covert operations, _Kid Flash._

Argh!

My only consolation: It could be worse. Roy could be here as well.

I should have remained at the Hall. Taken an actual tour. Sign a few autographs. Buy some popcorn – hold the butter and salt.

Or, I could have tried to come here by myself. Without the irritations that Robin and Kid Flash force upon me.

Options. I should really look into them more often.

Robin is just finishing hacking another set of doors when I catch up to them. The doors slide open smoothly, revealing a tall room filled with pods containing what seem to be electrical insects the size of a komodo dragon, possibly powering the massive ball of energy at the rear top of the room.

"I'm officially whelmed," comments Robin, walking inside and staring at the insects.

Kid Flash and I follow, staring at the pods crackling with electricity. The speedster remarks, "This must be how they hide this underground facility from the world. The real Cadmus isn't on the grid. They generate their own electricity with these…" he gestures to the insect creatures, "things."

Genes. Insects I've never seen. Creatures I've never seen. It all reminds me of the possibility of Black Manta altering my physiology.

"Cadmus," I repeat. "Cadmus is a clue. The Cadmus of myth created a new race by sowing dragon teeth into the earth."

I have to thank my momentary obsession with mythology when I was 12 as well as the mention of the myth in one of my history classes for that knowledge.

"And this Cadmus creates new life too," says Robin, heading over to the nearest computer. "Let's find out why." He plugs his wrist computer into the console and pulls up a series of files, explaining as he scans, "They call'em Genomorphs. …Whoa! Look at the stats on these things: superstrength, telepathy, razor claws, these things are living weapons!"

Much like us, I presume.

"They're engineering an army, but for who?" questions Kid Flash as I lean over Robin's shoulder to look at the holographic interface. G-Gnomes, Raptors…Trolls? What the…

"Wait, there's something else," says Robin, pulling up a file on 'Project Kr'. "Project Kr…ugh the file's triple-encrypted I-I can't-"

"Don't move!"

We turn, finding G-Raptors – as referred to in the files I glimpsed over Robin's shoulder – and a few G-Gnomes blocking our path forward. At the centre of them is a man with a gold helmet and shield who is strikingly familiar.

Yes, I definitely know who he is. Roy mentioned him once and I later researched him.

"Wait, Robin, Aqualass, Kid Flash?" he questions, his eyes widening from behind his gold helmet.

"Guardian," I state with a frown, "you are a hero."

"I do my best," he responds.

"Then what are you doing here?" Kid Flash inquires sharply.

"I think that's my question," retorts Guardian. "I'm Chief of Security, you're trespassing. But we can call the Justice League, figure this out."

"You think the League's gonna approve of you breeding weapons?"

"Weapons? What-" he stops abruptly, pressing the side of his head as the horns of the G-Gnome on his shoulder glow red. He shakes his head, "Take them down hard! No mercy!"

…

Clearly, I have missed something.

Robin darts in front of us as Kid Flash backs up. Robin throws a couple pellets to the ground which explode to create a smokescreen that should give us some cover to escape. In the next instant I hear the _zing_ of Robin's grapple-line and the _zip_ of Kid Flash darting backwards.

A G-Raptor advances on me. I block and throw the G-Raptor to the side, barely moving from my position. I duck to avoid another G-Raptor and twist, slamming my fist into the back of another. A snarl echoes in my ear as a G-Raptor leaps on my back. I stumble forwards and grab the G-Raptor, ripping it off my back and into another before kicking yet another G-Raptor into one of the pods.

Guardian advances on me, forcing me to block his punches as he backs me against a wall while managing to get a shot in at my face. My hands snap up instinctively and curl around his shield as he presses against me, trying to use his perceived superior strength against me.

I choose to send a surge of electricity down my arms and into his shield, jarring him enough for me to easily throw him across the room and sprint after Robin.

I catch a glimpse of Kid Flash sprinting down the hallway ahead of me. I look behind me, slowing for a moment, as the G-Raptors head towards us and Guardian gets to his feet. Good. At least I did not harm him too badly. He can still walk; I count that as a win. I turn around and speed up, darting around a corner to head straight for the elevator Robin clearly hacked. I skid into the elevator and the doors shut behind me to the tune of G-Raptors colliding with the closed doors.

Kid Flash glances at me and then Robin and then the floor numbers glowing at the top of the elevator. He frowns. I stare at the numbers then turn to Robin, "We're going _down?_"

"Dude!" Kid Flash exclaims. "Out is up!"

"Excuse me?" Robin says incredulously. "Project Kr is _down_. On sub-level 52."

He has to be joking. We have uncovered a secret breeding project that Batman apparently doesn't even know about. This is _huge._ Why would he want to dig us further into the hole?

"This is out of control," I point out, hanging my hands off my shoulders. "We should contact the League."

The boys look as though they might be considering it but the moment ends quickly as the elevator beeps, signalling that we reached sub-level 52. The doors slide open, revealing a corridor that looks oddly like the inside of intestines. I grimace as Robin darts out of the elevator and into the creepy corridor.

I hope the floor is not squishy and similar to intestines. I am going barefoot here. At least the boys have shoes.

"We _are_ already here," Kid Flash points out.

I shoot him an unimpressed look which he barely witnesses as he darts out of the elevator after Robin.

I sigh and slump forward.

Focus on the consolation Kalla: It could be worse. Roy could be here as well still pissed off about our treatment from the League and sending his negative vibes throughout the impromptu team.

I square my shoulders and dart out of the elevator. Thankfully, the floor is not squishy.

I crouch next to Robin at the fork in the corridor, questioning irritably, "Which way?"

"Yeah," Robin says, completely missing my irritation, "Bizarre Looking Hallway 1, or Bizarre Looking Hallway 2?"

"Halt!" a creature – male – orders, telekinetically lifting two barrels as his two large, pointed horns glow red and I recognize him, vaguely, as the creature I had seen in the elevator.

The barrels fly towards us and collide with the wall behind Kid Flash, causing him and I to duck as the heat washes over us and Robin darts forward. Kid Flash and I quickly catch up to Robin darting down Bizarre Looking Hallway 2. I hang back to cover Robin from behind as Kid Flash races forward. Within moments we reach a door labeled 'Project Kr' held open only by a barrel jammed in it. Robin and I leap through the door swiftly following Kid Flash and the instant Robin is connected to the door's console I kick the barrel out of the door, closing it.

"There, it's locked," declares Robin, "we're safe."

I look around the room. The room with _one_ visible exit and entrance. My eyes narrow, "We're trapped."

_Fabulous._ This is _really_ going to impress the League.

Technically, I am not even supposed to be here. I am supposed to be on leave. I should not be here. Trapped. Trapped alongside a couple of teenage boys in spandex and Kevlar who assisted in convincing me to disobey our super-powerful mentors as they saved the Sun, which resulted in me plus the teenage boys running straight into an underground secret facility that is happily breeding weapons in its intestine-esque caves.

Oh, this will _definitely_ show Annex that I am ready for more responsibility.

"Uh, guys, might wanna take a look at this," says Kid Flash, standing at a console near the centre of the room.

He hits a button as Robin and I approach, activating a light that illuminates the pod near the back of the room. The pod is labeled as 'Project Kr' and has a boy about my own age lying on a platform inside it. He seems to be asleep, has black hair, a fair complexion, a large build and is wearing a skintight white uniform with the 'S' shield of Superman across his chest. My eyes widen.

'Project Kr' makes a little more sense now.

Although I still have no idea what, exactly, the G-Gnomes lined up above his head do.

"Big 'K' little 'r', the atomic symbol for Krypton," says Kid Flash, staring up at the…boy. "Clone?"

Oh. Obviously. Atomic symbol for Krypton. I should have seen that before.

Why isn't…I turn and nudge Robin, who is still staring at the boy in the pod, "Robin, hack."

"What?" he looks up at me, surprised. "Oh, oh, right."

Quickly, he plugs his wrist computer into the pod console and begins pulling up files. I skim through them as he explains, "Weapon designation: Superboy. A clone force grown in _16 weeks!_ From DNA acquired from Superman."

"Stolen from Superman," I interject because, well, he's _Superman._

"No way the big guy knows about this," Kid Flash agrees.

"The solar suit allows him to absorb yellow sun radiation 24/7," adds Robin.

I frown and point to the G-Gnomes, "And these creatures?"

"Genomorph Gnomes. Telepathic. They're force-feeding him an education."

"And we can guess what else," Kid Flash remarks darkly. "They're making a slave out of, well, Superman's _son_."

Technically, not his son if he's a clone. Closer to a brother, really, but I will let it slide. He should not be here, being a slave, no matter what he technically is to Superman, if he is anything.

We need help.

"Now we contact the League," I demand, activating my com-link. I receive nothing but static in return and, judging by the faces of the other two, they got the same.

"No signal," explains Robin.

"We're in too deep, literally," Kid Flash grimaces. He looks back at Superboy, "This is wrong."

Robin looks at Kid Flash then turns his gaze on me as he says, "We can't leave him like this."

I hesitate at their eyes on me, clearly looking for some sort of guidance from the oldest person here. I can understand it but, frankly, would prefer to turn to Robin seeing as he is the most experienced. But I cannot place this decision on him, I still have to subdue my want to just grab him whenever we're fighting together – particularly in Gotham, or by water, anywhere – and sprint away from the battle then tuck him away in the most secure place I can find and ensure that nothing bad ever happens to him. He's like the little brother I wanted for about six months when I was a kid.

If we release Superboy then yes, there will be another 'muscle' just in case I wind up separated from them and that is beneficial and would, hopefully, aid in our escape. However, the G-Gnomes concern me. If they were telepathically educating him then what were they educating him on? They could have educated him on how evil the League is for all we know.

However, we are also currently trapped.

"Free him," I decide. "Do it."

I flex my hands and step slightly out from behind the pod console, tensing just in case Superboy winds up having been educated to perceive us as enemies and decides to attack us. If he does attack us I do not want him hitting Kid Flash or Robin. I want him hitting me. I should be able to take his hit, unlike the other two.

Silence descends as the pod slides up to leave only Superboy lying on the platform. He flexes his hands. The horns of the G-Gnomes glow. Superboy's eyes snap open, displaying a brilliant, beautiful crystalline shade of blue I've only ever seen in Superman's eyes. Gorgeous.

Then, he _moves._

His hands impact with my shoulders and we flip over. He lands on his back and I land on top of him, then we flip again and he slams me on my back. His knees are clamped on either side of my hips when his hands leave my shoulders, and before I can react, his fists are flying against my face.

_Sonova-_

"Hey! Get away from her!" I hear Kid Flash shout and for a moment the punches slow.

I grit my teeth as Kid Flash puts all his weight and strength into holding back Superboy's right arm while Robin wraps his arms around Superboy's neck and objects, "We're on your side!"

Superboy turns slightly, grabs Kid Flash's collar and chucks him across the room, sending him crashing across the console and to the ground, unconscious. Superboy turns again to grab at Robin and his knees slide slightly. I take my chance and pull my right leg out from beneath him then twist, bring it up, and kick him in the face.

Robin releases him a split-second before he flies backwards, crashing into the console, narrowly missing Kid Flash, and then hitting the ground. I roll onto my hands and knees, wincing at the ringing in my head as the familiar crackle of electricity reaches my ears.

Robin vanishes from my peripheral vision and I turn sharply, my eyes widening as Robin's taser hits the ground just an instant before he does. I shoot up as Superboy's foot hits his chest. My water-hammer collides with Superboy's chest, sending him careening back into the remnants of his pod. Satisfied that Superboy is out for a moment, I crouch next to Robin and gingerly attempt to assess his state. There will definitely be bruising. I glance at Kid Flash as I set Robin, falling unconscious, down. This is precisely why I wished to be hit, not them.

Superboy stands. I shoot up and move in front of Robin, forcing myself to remain calm instead of tearing Superboy apart like I really want to, "We only want to help you. Please, stop."

I dart to the side. His fist dents the ground.

I holster my water-bearer and hold my hands out to him as I assume a nonthreatening posture, "We only wish to help. I do not want to hurt you. Please. We can work-" I dodge his punch and block his kick.

"_Please,_" I repeat, darting out of his reach. "If you do not stop I will have to attack, and I do not want to do that."

He attacks, slamming me into the wall.

I block his punch and slam my knee into his crotch. Surprisingly, he winces. I punch him then dart out of his retaliation, twisting to kick him in the back. He grapples for me. I twist his left arm behind his back and slam my body weight onto the backs of his knees, sending him crashing to the ground. Keeping him locked in the pin I send a surge of electricity through my channels and into him.

It does little.

He pulls his arm out of my hold and grabs my wrist. I hit the ground facefirst and barely manage to twist and press my feet against his chest to keep him from getting any closer to me. He slams my legs towards my chest instead, so I wrap my legs around his head and roll backwards to slam him onto the ground. I sit up over him, straddling his neck, and slam my hand onto his face while sending a surge of electricity out of my hand. He punches me. I crash to the right. In an instant, he's up, picking me up and throwing me across the room. I hit the wall. Then the floor. Then, there's nothing.

**Unknown**

My head is not as sore as it was before, thank goodness.

I blink open my eyes, and, for a moment, stare at the glass in front of me. My wrists are restrained above my head, although my ankles are not restrained as well, and I seem to be in a pod in a room similar to Superboy's. It merely has three pods, the other two containing Kid Flash and Robin, and Superboy is the one standing in the middle of the room looking at us. He looks…robotic. Resolute, certainly, but not…normal.

I tug on my restraints.

I did not expect them to budge.

"We only wished to help you," I say, focusing on Superboy for the time being as he seems to be our only way out of here at the moment. Even if he does think we're the enemy and, judging by the G-Gnomes and their telepathy, manipulated.

"Yeah, we help you and you turn on us!" Kid Flash snaps, "How's that for gratit-"

"Kid," I hiss. "Please, be quiet." I look back at Superboy, carefully keeping a frown off my face because we need him on our side at the moment and getting angry at him likely will not help us accomplish that, "I believe our friend was not in full control of his actions."

Superboy's mouth opens and an odd noise escapes it. He closes his mouth. He opens it and tries again, "Wha-what if I wasn't?"

I wonder if this is his first time speaking.

"He can talk?" exclaims Kid Flash.

Makes sense, I suppose the G-Gnomes would have to educate him on the basics before indoctrinating him.

"Yes," Superboy says, "_he_ can."

"Not like I said 'It'."

"The Genomorphs taught you, telepathically," I say as explanation.

"They taught me much," Superboy confirms. "I can read, write; I know the names of things."

"But have you seen them?" questions Robin, sounding alarmed. "Have they ever actually let you see the sky? Or, the sun?"

"Images are implanted in my mind, but, no," Superboy responds, "I have not _seen_ them."

He still seems…off.

"Do you know…what you are?" I question, realizing too late that might be offensive. "_Who_ you are?" I attempt to amend.

He straightens up, clearly knowing the answer to those questions, "I am the Superboy. A Genomorph. A clone made from the DNA of the Superman. Created to replace him should he perish; to destroy him should he turn from the light."

That…seems awfully unnecessary. For replacing him, well, there are other heroes besides Superman. Wonder Woman, for example, and she is from an island populated by women who could all conceivably be superheroines. Not to mention Annex and most of my former classmates. As for destroying him, you could just get some kryptonite and kill Superman easily enough. A good plan, kryptonite bullet, bang, and he's gone. Same with Superboy, I presume. Then there is their vulnerability to magic to consider. There are plenty of magical creatures out there who are perfectly capable of at least imprisoning Superman, or Superboy. Why not just attempt to get someone magical on their side instead of going through the hassle of cloning?

I suppose I should not mention that though.

"It is a worthy aspiration to be like Superman," I say, because it is, the man is remarkable. "But, like Superman you deserve a life of your own. A life beyond your solar suit, beyond your pod, and beyond Cadmus."

"I live _because _of Cadmus! It is my home!" he yells.

Oh.

I suppose waking up to us destroying his 'bedroom' was rather unpleasant.

I open my mouth to apologize for destroying his bedroom but Robin speaks before I can, "Your home is a test tube. We can show you the sun."

"Ah, pretty sure it's after midnight," Kid Flash interjects. "But we can show you the moon."

Seems like a good plan. Surprisingly.

I agree, "We can show you, teach you, introduce you to Superman."

Provided our mentors do not murder/ground/fire us first.

"No," a man in a labcoat – from the files I recall his name as Desmond – enters the room alongside a woman in a labcoat – Spence, I believe – and Guardian, "they can't. They'll be otherwise occupied." He turns to Spence, "Activate the cloning process."

"Pass! Batcave's crowded enough," objects Robin.

Cloning. Cloning? _Cloning?_

As if the Black Manta issue was not enough, now I must deal with cloning? _Really?_

"And get The Weapon back in It's pod!" exclaims Desmond.

The Weapon? It?

"Hey! How come he gets to call Supey an 'It'?" questions Kid Flash.

I frown, "He does not. No one does. Superboy is a person, not an object."

Guardian lays a hand on Superboy's shoulder. I glance at Spence, seeing her prepping, and feel my gut churning as fear washes over me. I turn back to Superboy and say, trying to appear calm, "Help us."

"Don't start thinking _now_," says Desmond and the G-Gnome on his shoulder hops onto Superboy's. Almost immediately, the G-Gnome's horns glow and Superboy straightens up, his eyes blanking. Desmond stands in front of Superboy, "You're not a real boy, you're a weapon, and you belong to _me_. Well, to Cadmus. Same thing! Now get back to your pod!"

"You own no one," I say, my glare slicing towards Desmond as Superboy turns and walks out of the room.

He raises an eyebrow at me.

Compartments by my feet open up and two flexible rods rise. Once they reach my chest they split apart into three smaller, sinister-looking syringes. I feel the blood drain from my face. Then, they plunge into my chest and electricity instantly surges through my body.

"EAAGGHHH!"

I grit my teeth as the screams from the boys assault my ears and all of my muscles tense as I struggle to gather the chaotic electricity and keep it from surging on its destructive path. The syringes pump against my chest; I can feel them drawing my blood.

I feel myself scream then promptly slam my mouth shut and grit my teeth again as I press my chin against my chest.

"…Dubbilex, lurking as usual," I dimly hear Desmond say and force himself to tune out everything else except Desmond speaking to my elevator friend. "Get the G-Gnomes downloading their memories. When that's done, and when you're sure the clones are viable, delete the source material."

Oh no. Nononononono. Then they'll know about patera. They'll know about Joa, Mai, and Brian. They'll know about Pansy and Kodi and Auntie and Uncle.

Well aware that I cannot break my restraints at the moment, nor concentrate enough to gather the energy needed to channel the electricity, I hiss, "Superboy. You live. You _live_, that gives you the right to follow your own path. To make your own choices." _But please help, oh Poseidon, please._ "But think," _oh pleasepleasepleaseplease, _"what would Superman do?"

_Please._

If Black Manta did alter my physiology to better channel energy then he did not do a very good job of it.

I need to get out. Now.

Oh Poseidon, _it hurts_.

A thousand times worse than my first cramps, of which I blame my human DNA for. _A thousand times worse._

Oh Poseidon.

_CREEASCH!_

The electricity stops. I let out a sigh of relief, although the syringes are still plunged into my chest and tug painfully on my breasts when I attempt to move, and look up to find Superboy throwing the door to the side and striding toward Desmond, Guardian, and Dubbilex. Effortlessly, he shoves all of them away from him. Wisely, Spence opts to not attempt to engage him and moves away from the console to look after Guardian instead.

"Don't give me orders," Superboy snaps. He turns and strides in front of us, looking a little less angry than before.

"You gonna help us or fry us?" Kid Flash asks.

Superboy squints. My eyebrows shoot up in alarm. After a moment, his eyes relax and he remarks, "Hmm, I don't seem to have heat vision so I suppose helping is my only option."

He actually _tried_ to fry us?

Oh that was kind. That was _really_ kind.

Robin's pod slides open and he hops out, grunting, "Ugh, lucky Batman isn't here. He'd have my head for taking so long."

"Seriously? That's what you're worried about?" Kid Flash barks. "The whole League'll have our heads after tonight!"

But…he was being electrocuted. That surely would have put a damper on picking the restraints. What kind of training does Batman put Robin through?

"Free Aqualass, I'll get Kid Mouth," says Robin, tapping a button on the console that makes our pod covers and the syringes retract.

"Don't you give me orders either," Superboy growls. He does hop onto my pod though, crowding my feet, and grabs each of my restraints with one hand, easily crushing them. I feel so inferior, strength-wise.

With the restraints gone I nearly fall on my face, my arms hanging against my sides as I let out a sigh of relief and Superboy grabs me by the shoulders to catch me, keeping me from hitting the ground face-first. I am sore. My breasts are sore from being attacked by syringes. My head is sore from Superboy. My arms are sore from being restrained for so long. I am sore and I do not like it.

I look up at Superboy and flash a grateful smile, "Thank you."

He just nods, looking as serious as Batman, then hops off my pod. I follow quickly as Robin gets Kid Flash free and darts after us.

"You-you'll never get out of here I'll have you back in pods before morning!" I hear Desmond exclaim a moment before Robin makes the containers holding our blood explode, and I sprint out of the room.

I glance backwards at the doorframe and spot the number 42. I make a note of that and continue sprinting down the hallway towards the elevator with Kid Flash easily catching up to me.

I explain for Superboy's benefit, the only one of us having not gone on a mission before, "We are 42 levels below ground, but if we can make the elevator-"

Two G-Trolls round the corner beside the elevator, blocking our path. They lumber toward us with two partners while behind us two more G-Trolls and a collection of G-Raptors – who exploded from the _walls_, I knew those walls were freaky – advance.

Kid Flash, Robin, and I dart forwards, either leaping over or skidding under the G-Trolls to get on their opposite side and reach the elevator. Superboy, conversely, punches the G-Trolls. He sends two into the walls as we turn around to stare and debris fall from the ceiling and walls.

"Superboy!" I snap, really not wanting to be buried alive today. "We don't want to bury ourselves here! The goal is escape!"

He turns sharply, roaring, "YOU WANT ESCAPE?" He grabs a felled G-Troll and throws it into two of the remaining G-Troll's with yet another roar.

Mentally, I huff in exasperation. No Roy. Yes, great, _fabulous_. Now I've got a replacement in the form of a 16-week-old angry clone. Yes, his anger is pretty justified at the moment but dear Poseidon this is just getting ridiculous. I will never fully understand how people can be so angry.

As he darts toward us we turn and reach the elevator. I pull open the doors and once again we find no elevator car waiting for us. Robin shoots his grapple-line up the shaft, grabs Kid Flash, then soars up there. I sincerely hope he is planning on coming back down to grab myself and Superboy.

An arm wraps around my waist and I twist immediately, moving to punch someone, but stop abruptly as I realize it's Superboy. He grabs me and promptly leaps up the shaft.

I do not believe I have ever mentioned to anyone how much I dislike flying. I do not mind flying in an aircraft, I am fine with that. It is flying while being held by someone that irritates me. All I can think of are the civilians who wind up getting picked up – hand under back, hand under knees – by the flying superheroes and a) I dislike that method of being held, it makes going through doors a pain, and b) I am far from a civilian who needs rescuing.

I am practical, however, and if to keep from being pummeled by a group of G-Trolls and Raptors I need to be flown up an elevator shaft, I will be flown.

But, we are now falling. We are falling. _Why are we falling?_

I look at Superboy, who looks just as surprised as I feel. That isn't good.

A birdarang whips through the air and hits the wall of the shaft. Instinctively, my hand snaps out and grabs it. My side hits the wall of the shaft and I instinctively tighten my grip on Superboy's waist as he does the same to keep him from hitting the ground.

"Superman can fly," breathes Superboy, looking so lost I have a bizarre urge to hug him. "Why can't I fly?"

"Don't know," says Kid Flash, helping Superboy off me and onto the small outcropping around the edge of the shaft, "but it looks like you can leap tall buildings in a single bound. Still cool."

I land on the edge of the shaft, again making note of what sublevel we are on – 15.

"Guys!" Robin shouts. "This'll have to be our exit!"

Superboy and I look up sharply to see the elevator car rapidly descending. Immediately, we leap onto the outcropping by the door and punch the elevator doors in, sending them flying into the hallway of sublevel 15. The four of us dart through immediately, narrowly missing being squished by the elevator car. In the hallway we are met by G-Raptors and G-Trolls. Again.

We dart down the nearest hallway and simply begin to run.

"Go right! Right!" Superboy shouts suddenly. Up ahead, Kid Flash obliges, going right with Superboy close behind him. "Left!"

We go left and find ourselves at a dead end with nothing but a vent at the top of the wall.

Shit.

"Nice job Supey, are you trying to get us re-poded?" exclaims Kid Flash.

"I'm sorry, I don't-"

Robin cuts Superboy off with a delighted grin, "Don't apologize! This is perfect!"

At Robin's order, Superboy pulls off the cover of the vent and Robin immediately hops into it. I follow him quickly, grimacing at the tightness of the vent. If it was this uncomfortable for me then it must be worse for Superboy, seeing as while I am nearly as tall as Superboy I am slightly smaller in width.

Kid Flash huffs as we crawl, "At this rate we'll never get out-"

"Ssshh!" Superboy hisses. We all stop and turn, looking back at him as well as we can. "Do you hear that?"

Scratching. Claws on metal.

"G-Raptors," I say.

"Guess this is our stop," comments Robin. A second later a vent cover falls to the ground and he hops out. I follow quickly into the hallway next to a stairwell and move out of the way for the other two to get out while Robin begins hacking the building.

"Deactivated security cameras while in the vent and now, I hacked the motion sensors," Robin smirks. "But there's still plenty of them between us and out."

"But I've finally got room to move!" Kid Flash grins, putting on his goggles. He zips into the stairwell, a blur of red and yellow. Myself, Robin, and Superboy follow.

We reach the top quickly, thanks in part to Superboy taking out the G-Raptors behind us and Kid Flash clearing the path before us. Unfortunately, when we turn the corner to reach the exit – amidst red lights and sirens – we find Kid Flash on the floor rubbing his head and the doors firmly shut.

I restrain the want to swear, "We are cut off from the street."

"Thanks, my head hadn't noticed," Kid Flash comments.

Superboy darts past me and promptly punches the doors. I follow quickly as his punch doesn't even dent the doors and we instead each tug on one of the doors, attempting to pull them apart.

What are they made of? This should not be that difficult.

"This way!" Robin shouts, kicking down a door.

I glance at the G-Trolls and Raptors then promptly sprint after Robin, Kid Flash, and Superboy. The corridor looks clear for all of a millisecond before we're surrounded by G-Raptors, G-Trolls, G-Gnomes, and the lone Guardian. Promptly, I whip out my water-bearers, preparing to knock in some heads.

Last thing I remember is my chin hitting the floor.

* * *

**R&R!**


	10. Kalladura'ham 7

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, as well as Cheerios, are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 102: Fireworks._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, verbal sexual harassment  
**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Compassion will cure more sins than condemnation."_

Henry Ward Beecher

* * *

**7**

**Project Cadmus, Washington D.C. : July 5, 2010 – 00:05 EDT**

How many times am I going to be knocked out in one day?

This is just getting excessive.

Those are my first thoughts as I feel my consciousness returning and the sensation of water against my cheek. My eyes snap open and I take in Superboy kneeling, Dubbilex's horns glowing, Guardian shaking his head, and no one attacking anyone before I press my hands against the floor and push myself onto my knees. I grab my water-bearers cautiously and watch as Superboy stands, narrowing his eyes, "I choose freedom."

I stand, still not holstering my water-bearers, and look at Guardian who is now muttering to himself, "Guardian?"

He looks at me and states fiercely, "Go. I'll deal with Desmond."

I am clearly missing something, again, but I will go with it as long as I get out of here.

"I think not," said scientist growls from behind the genomorphs. The genomorphs part, revealing Desmond behind them – how he managed to sneak behind them I have no idea – who looks a little stressed, to say the least. "Project Blockbuster," he holds up a beaker filled with a shining blue liquid, "will give me the power to restore order to Cadmus."

Oh no. No. I do not like this…And he drinks it. Of course.

In my experience, oddly coloured drinks being ingested are a sign of impending doom. It is practically a rule of the superpowered world. You drink an oddly coloured liquid, you either die, get superpowers or turn into a raging mass of insanity and try to destroy everything in sight. The fact that Desmond just drank that is making me lean towards the idea that he has no idea what he's doing any longer and is just hitting the point of desperation and will likely turn into the latter option.

He buckles over, writhing. His glasses tumble off and he falls onto his hands and knees as his bones lengthen and thicken, his muscles bulge and twist, his hair falls out in clumps and his skin and clothing rip together in a joyous harmony of manipulated genetics and abominations.

Fuck.

Blockbuster!Desmond stands, he is definitely hitting nine feet, growling at nothing in particular, his skin now a hide of grey and red like the G-Trolls, his physique more similar to a troll's than a human's, his eyes red-and-black, his clothing utterly shredded but, miraculously, his pants managed to stretch enough to accommodate his lower body growing twice its size. I won't complain about that. I have no desire to see Desmond, Blockbuster or not, naked. _No._

He leans forward, a smirk across his face. I snap up the water on the floor to my water-bearers, forming a couple of swords, and narrow my eyes at him, moving into a defensive position. Once again, I would prefer it if he hit me rather than Kid Flash or Robin.

"Everybody back!" Guardian orders before darting forward, only to be swatted away like an insect by Blockbuster!Desmond. He hits the wall and does not rise.

Well, he is definitely related to Roy. I discerned no plan from that little move.

Superboy growls and darts forward, again, like Guardian, and somehow manages to punch Blockbuster in the face. Blockbuster immediately punches back and I wonder why, exactly, the genomorphs don't just telepathically knock out Blockbuster now. They obviously are not on his side anymore.

Superboy shoots up, managing to get in a couple more punches before Blockbuster sends a serious punch against Superboy, sending him skidding across the floor. Superboy, unharmed, shoots up again and moves immediately to pound Blockbuster into the ground. Blockbuster leaps up, grabbing Superboy, and the pair crash through the ceiling, sending debris raining down on the rest of us.

"Well, that's one way to bust through the ceiling," comments Robin as I holster my water-bearers.

"You think labcoat planned that?" questions Kid Flash as Robin shoots his grapple-line through the hole and grabs Kid Flash.

The pair soar through the hole and I stare after them, my weariness with the repetitiveness of this mission reaching an apex, "I doubt he is planning anything anymore."

Which is why we should really have a plan, but, seeing as that is apparently not going to happen today I suppose I will just start hitting Blockbuster.

I hop up the level, through the hole and land on street-level in the facility's lobby to find Blockbuster grabbing Superboy, turning, and chucking him straight at myself, Robin, and Kid Flash.

"Oof!" Superboy collides with my gut, sending the pair of us careening over the hole and across the floor. We come to a stop with me sprawled across Superboy, mentally groaning, my knee somewhere by his neck and my forehead on the ground. Kid Flash grabs my arm and with his assistance I get to my feet, silently taking stock of how much of my body aches at the moment. Which is everything, really. I am never getting beaten up by a Kryptonian ever again. I swear it.

Superboy stands, with Robin's assistance, beside me, and all four of us stare at Blockbuster. Alright. Time to beat him, accept the lectures from our mentors, then go home and sleep.

Kid Flash darts forward, a blur of ketchup and mustard. He skids beneath Blockbuster's legs and with a nudge to Superboy we sprint forward, leap, and send our fists colliding against Blockbuster's face. Kid Flash trips him from behind, sending Blockbuster crashing onto his back. Blockbuster rolls, managing to block Robin's birdarangs, then promptly tackles Superboy into one of the pillars that surround the lobby.

I pull out a water-bearer as Superboy manages to get in a few good punches then promptly gets walloped himself. Blockbuster winds up to send another punch to Superboy's face but I interrupt, wrapping a water-whip around his wrist. He pulls his arm forward, pulling me towards him as expected. I vault off his face and turn the whip into a hammer as I land above Superboy on the pillar and promptly use gravity to my advantage to leap off it and send my water-hammer down to Blockbuster – ack!

He grabs my hammer and sends me hurtling to the ground, hard. I lay there for a moment, wincing, then catch sight of Blockbuster's foot. I roll, avoiding being stomped on as Kid Flash blurs past me. I get to my feet as Blockbuster turns, grabbing Kid Flash. My water-bearers forming twin maces fly out of my hands as Kid Flash suddenly collides with my stomach, sending me crashing into a pillar.

Ow.

A hand covers my face in the next instant and I feel the pillar break behind me then my back collide with yet another pillar while the massive grey hand still grasps my head like some sort of ball. I can't see anything but know enough to realize that Blockbuster has to be right in front of me so I grab his wrist, digging my half-bitten nails into his hide, and snap my legs up, kicking him in the face. He roars in response and promptly _bites my foot_.

Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. I have never had anyone bite my foot before. Oh Poseidon, that is disgusting, that is absolutely disgusting!

I kick him in the face with my free foot, dislodging my bitten foot from his mouth – I am going to wash that foot until it sparkles, I swear – and he promptly punches me in retaliation. Mentally, I swear, and snap my legs up again, wrapping them around his arm because he can't exactly punch me that way without punching his own arm and I doubt he wants to do that.

Suddenly, he releases me and I catch a brief glimpse of Superboy before I'm suddenly thrown clear across the room. I hit the wall then the floor, face-first, and just lay there for a moment, trying to get past having my foot bitten by Blockbuster. My skin crawls at the thought and I push myself onto my hands and knees, glancing backwards to see Kid Flash dodging Blockbuster and Superboy slowly getting to his feet. My water-bearers are still on the floor where they had fallen.

"Superboy! Aqualass!" Robin shouts.

I get to my feet, looking at Robin as he brings up a holographic representation of the building's pillars along with the words 'structural compromise'. I understand immediately and he points to the pillars that need to be destroyed. Superboy moves immediately to one of them and I skid across the ground to grab my water-bearers before I head to the other one and mace it to pieces.

"Shock him on the X," says Robin as he darts away from a chalk-drawn X on the ground.

I opt not to question the presence of the chalk and instead follow his directions and create a large puddle on the ground over the X and leading up to it. Kid Flash skids to a stop on the puddle, leading Blockbuster right to it. Superboy leaps forward on Robin's mark and punches Blockbuster to the ground an instant after Kid Flash darts out of the way. I send a surge of self-energy up my channels and press my fingers against the puddle, carefully manipulating the electricity to surge through the puddle and into Blockbuster.

I don't think I'll ever get used to the sound people make when they're electrocuted.

"Move!" Robin shouts.

Then the birdarangs at the top of the room_ explode_. I was unaware that he rigged the room to explode. Would it kill him to let people know when he is rigging the room to explode? I mean really.

I head straight for the nearest exit, trailing Robin. A massive piece of concrete lands beside me when I come to the realization that there is no way we are getting out of here in time. I grab Robin, push him to the ground, and cover him with my own body, on instinct protecting his head and bracing myself for having a building fall on top of me.

I caught a glimpse of Superboy doing the same to Kid Flash. I swear I did.

For a moment, I can't breathe and I can't hear anything.

I hear my heart first, then Robin's breathing – thank Poseidon he's breathing – and then I feel the pressure of the concrete and plaster and steel against my back and my shoulders nearly buckle at the surprising weight. I grit my teeth though and stare at Robin beneath me. From my position, on my elbows and knees, his head pressed against my chest, I can only really see his shoulder and the top of his head but I can tell that he's curled into a ball, his instinct and training prompting him to protect his head and make himself as small as possible.

I can't figure out how to get the concrete off us without possibly dislodging a piece and making it crush Robin. I can feel two pieces of massive debris above us. One resting more on my back than anywhere else while the other is on my left hip and shoulder. If I move, one will shift and either slide off my left side or my right. I think I'm stuck. I am going to be holding this until someone else can lift the concrete off us then.

Okay. Okay, I can do that. I can do this. I can.

I exhale shakily.

I whisper, because it's too quiet to do anything else, "I cannot move or a piece will fall and I won't be able to catch it."

Robin shifts slightly beneath me, nodding, but remains silent.

Suddenly, half the weight scrapes across my back then vanishes and I move immediately, shoving the other half away and standing. Kid Flash is sitting up, wincing, with Superboy standing beside him, a couple feet away from us. He must have been holding up part of the concrete we were trapped under too.

My entire body aches but, beyond some scratches and bruises, the others seem fine, and while I can feel bruises forming across my back I am physically well. Panting, attempting to catch my breath, I remark, "We…we did it."

Holy shit.

We actually…

"Was there ever any doubt?" Robin chuckles, as he sits up while Kid Flash moves over to him. Kid Flash grins and they promptly high-five one another, then wince. I can see a bruise forming on Kid Flash's back through a torn piece of his uniform. There are some scratches on Robin as well. Superboy, besides some ruffled hair and a torn suit, seems fine.

I look down at myself when I catch my breath. I grimace at the sight. There are small spots of blood on my breasts from the syringes and one of my straps was torn completely off, revealing a torn bra strap and far more of my cleavage than I particularly want shown. I am missing the pants covering my right calf and there is a large chunk of fabric supposed to be covering my left thigh that is missing. Part of the right side of my shirt was ripped off, revealing the beginnings of a bruise on my back, and I am certain that my hair is a mess. I tug on my shirt to try and pull it up further to cover more of my chest as Superboy walks past me to stare at Blockbuster pinned beneath the rubble.

Kid Flash gestures to the sky and announces, "See? The moon."

Superboy looks up, his eyes widening, and I'm struck by the fact that this is the first time he's seen anything other than Cadmus. Wow. He looks mesmerized.

The moon does look magnificent tonight. Or…this morning. Whatever it is.

…wait. That is…

"And Superman," Kid Flash adds, watching as Superman appears in front of the moon and begins to descend toward us. "Do we keep our promises or what?"

Flanking Superman are the majority of the Justice League. I tense instinctively, recognizing that I am probably going to be fired now. As they land, Wonder Woman, Captain Atom, Zatara, Hawkwoman, the Green Lanterns, Batman, Black Canary…Annex, of course, I grow steadily more relaxed. Annex may fire me, if he wishes, but that will not stop me from becoming a hero on my own. I do not have to operate out of Atlantis. Certainly, Toronto could use someone. Perhaps I could return to Joa in Vancouver. And I know I can handle it, despite what people seem to think.

Superboy walks toward Superman and looks up at him, hopeful as he displays the 'S' shield on his chest. Superman tenses and straightens his shoulders as a glare settles on his face. I move forward immediately, disliking Superman's reaction wholeheartedly. I lay my free hand on Superboy's shoulder and squeeze lightly as Batman says, "Is that what I think It is?"

I shoot a frustrated glare at Batman as Kid Flash warns, "He doesn't like being called an It."

"I'm Superman's clone," snaps Superboy, shrugging off my hand.

Shocked faces spread across the League and I, unbothered by Superboy's shrugging of my hand, face Batman and Superman, silently daring them to try and insult Superboy with me there. I do not care that they are _the _Batman and _the_ Superman. They have no right to start calling people 'It' or insulting them merely because of how they came into the world. If it was Annex who insulted Superboy I may have a more difficult time objecting, but I would still object. I would have to. If I didn't, I'd be no better than Desmond.

Instead of further insulting Superboy, Batman demands, "Start talking."

Some of the tension falls from my shoulders.

I glance at Robin and Kid Flash. They seem to silently vote me as spokesperson so I turn to the League and begin to explain, "You mentioned being suspicious of Cadmus. We believed it would be valuable for us to take advantage of the opportunity presented by the fire…"

With some interruptions from Kid Flash and Robin, I finally finish explaining the story as the Lanterns and Hawks fly away with Blockbuster safely contained. The message then is clear so us protégés move to our own area and allow the adult members of the League to converse.

"Are you all well?" I question immediately.

"Heh," Robin chuckles, "fine. Or, will be fine. Just a few bruises and scratches, nothing major."

"A-yep," Kid Flash nods in agreement.

Superboy doesn't respond.

"Superboy?" I inquire. "Physically, are you well?"

"I'm Superman's clone," he points out darkly and I have little doubt then that he can hear the conversation taking place between Superman, Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhunter, because his eyes flick back to them sharply.

"Superman can be harmed," I point out softly.

He grumbles, "I'm fine."

We fall into silence. Each of us, I presume, are wondering what will happen to us and what we should do. What we should say.

It takes another couple minutes before Superman walks toward Superboy and, awkwardly, says, "We'll a – we'll figure something out. The League will, I mean. For now, I, I better make sure they get that Blockbuster creature squared away."

My frown deepens as Superman flies off. He has to be joking. As if the Lanterns and Hawks are incapable of keeping Blockbuster under control. _Please._

"Cadmus will be investigated," Batman says, prompting us to turn to him, Flash, and Annex. "All 52 levels. But let's make one thing clear-"

"You should've called," Flash cuts in, crossing his arms.

After a quick Batglare to Flash, Batman turns back to us, "End results aside, we are not happy. You hacked Justice League systems, disobeyed direct orders, and endangered lives. You will _not_ be doing this again."

No.

No, I am _done_ with people underestimating me. I am _done_ with people telling me I can't do something just because of my age, my sex, my race, my hair colour, my…whatever. I am done.

"I am sorry," I state, standing in front of Batman, "but we will."

"Aqualass," Annex says firmly, "stand down."

"Apologies my King, but _no_. I _refuse _to stand down any longer." I gesture to the boys, "We did what you trained us to do today. We came together and created something powerful, something _important_."

"If this is about your treatment at the Hall, the three of you-"

"The four of us," Kid Flash cuts off his mentor. "And it's not."

Technically, for me, it is the treatment I have received from everyone since I started, particularly in the past few months. The treatment that states I am unworthy, or without the necessary qualifications or training, or too female, too black, too blonde, too feminine, not feminine enough, _something too less_ that makes me incapable of being a sidekick, much less a superhero.

"Batman, we're ready to use what you taught us," says Robin, "or why teach us at all?"

"Why let them tell us what to do?" questions Superboy sharply. "It's simple," he strides forward, "get onboard, or get out of the way."

I can feel Batman glaring.

"Give me three days," Batman says.

I frown. Kid Flash shrugs, "Three days isn't so long."

Annex is shooting me a _look_. I move towards him as Kid Flash and Robin move toward their own mentors, but I pause halfway to Annex. I turn and look at Superboy, who promptly looks at the ground, having been left alone by Superman and now, nearly left by us. Guilt spreads through my gut.

"Superboy," I say, turning around completely to face him, "you may come with me if you'd like."

"Aqualass," Annex says, grasping my shoulder.

"I have a human family," I point out, shrugging Annex's shoulder off as I move towards Superboy with a smile. "I am certain that they would be happy to have you as a guest for a few days."

He stares at me, like a child who never learned that staring was viewed as inappropriate.

He questions, glancing between Annex, myself, and the other protégés, "Um…okay?"

"We should leave quickly then."

* * *

**Zeelie Residence, Toronto, Ontario : July 5, 2010 – 01:02 EDT**

"My apologies," I say earnestly as I greet my Aunt Peggy, Uncle Kaleb and cousin Pansy. All are in their pyjamas, Aunt Peggy in a pair of black pyjama pants with glow-in-the-dark designs on them as well as an old blue t-shirt, Uncle Kaleb in a pair of red plaid boxers shirtless and squinting at Superboy as he fought his exhaustion, and Pansy in a pair of striped red pyjama pants and a massive blue t-shirt that advertised a run her father had presumably been on.

Pansy shoots me a glare and rubs at her eyes, clearly disliking the fact that I dared to wake her at one in the morning.

"I told you it would be alright, didn't I?" Aunt Peggy says impatiently, gesturing for Superboy and I to follow her. "You're alright, Kalla?"

"Merely sore," I answer.

"Good," Peggy says, walking into Kodi's old room – which has changed little since he went to university – and opening up the closet. She explains to Superboy, "Some of my son's clothes should fit you."

She emerges from the closet with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, continuing, "You can wear these to sleep, take Kodi's bed." She pauses then questions, "Are you hungry?"

Superboy, still frowning, answers, "No."

"Okay. Well, sleep well. I'm going to bed. Kalla," she shoots me a look that clearly means that despite her agreement to host Superboy she still has not forgiven me for the one-in-the-morning phone call, "can help you with anything else. She knows where everything is."

She leaves quickly, passing Pansy hovering in the doorway.

Pansy looks more awake than she was when we entered and she eyes our torn uniforms dubiously, looking ready to say something. She remains silent though.

I turn to Superboy, "You are well to sleep here, in these clothes?"

He nods.

"Okay, I will be in the room to the right if you need anything," I explain. I leave with Pansy and head straight for the guest room that has, unofficially over the past few years, become my room.

"So…what happened?" Pansy questions as she shuts the door to the guest room behind her and I remove my waterpack.

I tug off my belt, careful to not activate the com-link in my belt as I have done in the past, and begin gingerly pulling off my shirt. "I am afraid I cannot tell you," I say, wincing.

"Thought so," Pansy says with a shrug, leaning against the dresser where I store some civilian clothing just in case. Her eyes widen as I toss my shirt onto the chair in the corner and she spots the six spots of dried blood on my breasts, "What the hell are those?"

I glance down at my chest and sigh, "Irrelevant."

"I'll grab the first-aid kit."

"I am not wounded."

"You have blood on your boobs. Go to the bathroom," she orders then turns sharply and leaves.

I sigh and oblige, heading to the nearest bathroom. Once there I pull off my pants, dearly wishing to have a shower but also wishing to sleep, soon. I suppose, however, that I will survive if I only wash my "wounds" then go to bed.

Pansy enters a moment later, sliding in through a crack in the door, the first-aid kit hanging from her hands. She opens it and pulls out a cloth which I promptly soak in the tap and use to clean the six injection points the syringes made.

Pansy, to her credit, does not mention that the source of the holes is rather obvious and that either I was injected by something or had something pulled out of me. Instead, she merely begins rubbing some cream on the bruises covering my back.

**09:34 EDT**

Pansy's dark braids are gathered at the back of her head in a thick ponytail that manages to brush across her shoulder where the remnants of a Canadian flag temporary tattoo are. She stares at me from the across the table, her cereal turning soggy, and frowns, "How do you get up so early? You went to bed at like, two."

"Training," I answer simply, taking another bite of my waffle.

"I am _never_ joining the military."

"Good," her father says, taking a bite out of an apple. "Is Superboy up?"

Pansy and I shrug.

"You should probably get out of the house today," he adds with a significant look to his daughter. "Superboy seems a bit out of his element."

I snort.

"He doesn't even have a name besides Superboy, or any clothes for that matter," Pansy points out. She shoots me a frustrated look, "Where the hell did you find this guy? It's like he popped out of a hole in the ground."

"Essentially, that is what occurred."

"So, what, we have a bunch of Kryptonian mole people running around?"

"Absolutely."

She stares at me, "You know, there are times when I just can't tell if you're being serious or sarcastic."

"Logic, I find, is remarkably helpful in such circumstances."

"You're the sidekick of a King of an underwater civilization that spans most of the planet, your mom does magic for a living, you were trained by a princess of a race of warrior women, you hang out with a guy who dresses up as a flying rodent, about five different aliens, and one of the most powerful magicians on the planet, _and _you know the spirit of a city. Logic does not apply to you, K."

I smirk into my waffle.

She glowers at her cereal, muttering, "I hate you so much."

My smirk simply grows.

"Is Kodi not staying here for the summer?" I question abruptly.

"He is. He's supposed to be here in a week," Kaleb answers. "Him and a group of his friends are driving here."

"University road trip," says Pansy, grimacing at her now soggy cereal. "Thankfully, Kodi isn't an idiot when it comes to driving."

I rise and deposit my plate, cutlery and glass in the dishwasher before announcing, "I think I will try to wake Superboy. Perhaps attempt to find him some more clothes."

"Dig through Kodi's closet," Kaleb recommends, moving into the living room to switch on the weather channel.

I acknowledge his suggestion with a nod then stride up the stairs, my bare feet comfortably cold against the carpet. I pause at the door to Kodi's bedroom and softly knock on it despite the fact that he likely heard me coming up the stairs. The door swings open after a moment, revealing Superboy, garbed in Kodi's sweatpants but lacking a shirt to my wary appreciation. I would be unsurprised if he got too warm during the night, it was a common problem for me as well hence my attire of a pair of pyjama shorts and a tank top.

"I apologize if I woke you," I say, pulling my eyes up from his collarbone to his eyes.

He shrugs.

"We are eating breakfast at the moment. Is there anything in particular you would like?"

"Uh…" he stares at me, "I've never eaten anything."

My eyes widen and I quickly backtrack, "Right, my apologies. If you come down with me I can show you some options and you can choose which looks the most appetizing."

"Sure, whatever," he grunts.

I move out of his way and gesture for him to walk ahead of me. He obliges and I shut the door behind him, pausing momentarily to take in the sight of the open closet door and bed that was definitely not slept in.

Quizzically, I follow Superboy down the stairs and question, "Did you sleep in the closet?"

"It reminded me of my pod."

"Logical," I comment.

"And the boy is up!" Pansy declares with a grin. "Thought Mom gave you a shirt."

"Got hot," Superboy explains tersely.

I promptly put Pansy into a light headlock as her mouth opens, a smirk flitting across her face and the words _'that's one way of putting it'_ on the tip of her tongue. With Pansy tugging at my arms I explain to Superboy, "In the cupboard over the stove is the cereal, there is also toast, waffles, I suppose we could make eggs as well. There is fruit..."

He looks a little lost, honestly.

"Perhaps we should start with the basics," I suggest. "_Cheerios_." I release Pansy and grab the yellow box, "Start with some cereal."

"And milk," Pansy adds, pulling the carton from the fridge.

I grimace.

"Are you lactose intolerant?" Pansy questions Superboy.

"Doubt it," he answers.

"I am," I explain as I grab a bowl and gesture for Superboy to pour his cereal. "That's why she's asking. It's a rather common trait in Atlanteans. Perhaps I should try to contact Superman and ask him of any dietary restrictions for Kryptonians."

"Do you shave?" Kaleb asks abruptly, having risen from the weather channel to head into the kitchen. "Because I doubt any of the razors in this house could cut Kryptonian hair."

"How does Superman cut his hair?" questions Pansy, frowning at the thought.

"I will try to contact Annex," I say. "You can eat, Superboy, I will be right back. If you do not like it, tell Pansy."

"Dude, I need to get dressed," Pansy protests weakly.

I roll my eyes, "You can wait."

I stop abruptly as I move to the stairs and pass the front door. Quickly, I backtrack and stare at the envelope resting on the front mat below the letter slot. I grab it and stare at my name on it for a second before flipping it over and ripping it open. A credit card is in the envelope along with a note saying 'For expenses' followed by Batman's emblem.

Since when has Batman known where my human family lives?

Stupid question.

I jog up the stairs and return to the guest/my bedroom. Within a matter of minutes I manage to get in contact with Annex and figure out that, to his knowledge, there are no serious dietary restrictions for Kryptonians. Regardless, I still contact the Watchtower where apparently Superman is on monitor duty.

::: Watchtower. :::

"Aqualass," I state. "Superman, sir, do you have a moment?"

I sense his hesitation but he eventually inquires, ::: Is this mission-related? :::

"In a way."

::: What is it? :::

"Do you have any allergies or dietary restrictions?"

Silence.

::: Not really…why? Is this about that boy? :::

"Superboy, and yes sir, I do not wish to harm him inadvertently."

::: I'm not allergic to anything. ::: he snaps, or, as close to snapping as Superman can get. ::: Are you sure it's a smart idea to have him there when you're the only one nearby who could take him on? :::

"If he wished to harm me or my family I am certain that he would have done so already. Additionally, I am capable of protecting my family if the need arises."

::: You were beaten pretty badly at Cadmus. :::

"He does not wish to harm my family or me. I am certain of that," I state, growing steadily more annoyed with both Superman's insistence that I cannot protect my family and that Superboy wants to hurt us.

::: How are you certain? Cadmus could have created him with the intent to hurt League members. :::

"I suppose then, it is good that I am not a League member," I point out.

::: If he does anything, call me. :::

"He won't."

::: If he- :::

"He will not. Call it woman's intuition, whatever you wish, but it will not come to that. Aqualass out."

I kill the connection.

I may have overstepped a boundary there.

I push that thought away and replace it with the more pressing issue of the clone in my cousin's kitchen. Quickly, I rise and return to the kitchen where Pansy has taken out her laptop and is showing Superboy her various social media accounts.

"Any allergies?" questions Pansy immediately as she pauses in showing Superboy a lolcat posting.

"None," I answer. "You seem to be doing well, so I think I will take a shower. Superboy, you should as well. Then we can go out and start getting you some belongings."

Pansy eyes the credit card in my hand suspiciously, "Where did you get that?"

"It was on your front mat," I explain. "The note said that it was 'for expenses'."

"Was it from Superman?" Superboy asks, hope lighting his face up even more than the laptop monitor.

"It did not say, I am afraid," I lie.

"Who else would it be from? _Batman?_" Pansy scoffs. "Guy's not exactly warm and fuzzy. He dresses up like a flying rodent for Pete's sake." She rises as I head out of the kitchen, "Nope, you're not going, I'm going. I get a shower. You show Superboy the black hole that is the Internet."

I relent and take her seat next to Superboy to continue perusing the Internet.

* * *

**Toronto, Ontario : July 5, 2010 – 11:56 EDT**

"Are you sure you just want these t-shirts?" questions Pansy, eyeing the pile of black Superman t-shirts in Superboy's arms. "They're kind of…boring."

He shoots a glare at her and tightens his hold on the t-shirts, "I'm sure."

She shrugs, "Alright, whatever." She turns to me expectantly, posing in the jeans she opted to try on, "What do you think? Is my butt beautiful in this?"

"It looks fine," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "I believe it would be best if we paid now though and then ate lunch."

"Sure," Pansy agrees, bounding back into the change room. "You pay, I'll meet you out there."

I guide Superboy to the cashier and we quickly pay and leave the store with two bags filled with three pairs of jeans and a ton of black Superman t-shirts. In a matter of moments, Pansy is joining us and tugging her tank top impatiently over the waistband of her capris.

"I am going to introduce you to burgers," she informs Superboy as we head to the Food Court. It is when we are sitting with Superboy's burger combo in front of him, Pansy's Chinese food in front of her, and my sub in front of me that we encounter a problem.

"Hey babe," the boy who typifies the triad of Tall, Dark and Handsome, says, approaching our table and smirking at Pansy. Flanking him are two boys who would be called his lackeys were he a supervillain.

She stiffens immediately and I still in my movement to take a bite out of my sub. She turns a chilling glare to him, "Jason."

He leans on the table and his eyes travel from my ankles up my bare legs to the hem of my shorts and then up my jacket-covered torso to land on my face. He smirks, "Hey."

"Back the fuck off, Jason," Pansy snaps, losing her patience. "I said 'no' so get the fuck away and stop bothering me."

"You want me, babe, you know you do. That's all you were saying last week," he leans forward, his hand reaching out to her face.

She swats his hand away and I watch her opposite hand clench around her chopsticks, shaking, before she hisses, "I told you not to touch me ever again so back off."

He grabs her wrist.

I'm moving before my brain catches up to my body and my hand is wrapping around Jason's opposite wrist and clenching so tightly he should have bruises. He winces immediately as his lackeys move forward, prompting Superboy to growl and stand.

"She said 'back off'," I hiss.

"You've got a serious grip."

I promptly twist his wrist. He squeals in pain and Pansy sniggers as he nearly buckles over.

I grab his collar and pull him down to eye-level, "Back. Off. From this moment on, you will only be permitted to touch Pansy, or even speak to her, if she permits you. Am I understood?" He stares at me, wide-eyed. I tug on his collar, _"Am I understood?"_

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he says, fear clouding his eyes. I release him and he staggers backward a couple steps, glancing at his lackeys who seem to be frozen either because of my display or Superboy's growling. "Bitch."

Pansy shoots up. My hand shoots out and I grab her arm, keeping her from punching him. I eye Jason, "If being a 'bitch' means I know what I want and what I deserve, and that includes respect, then yes, I am a bitch. Thank you for noticing. Bitches get stuff done, in case you have not noticed, you pathetic child."

"_Leave_," Pansy spits.

Hastily, Jason turns, gesturing for his lackeys. They make a hasty retreat.

Stiffly, Pansy sits. I return to my seat with Superboy beside me and look at Pansy, concern creasing my face, "Who was that?"

"Jason," Pansy says, stabbing her food viciously. "I went out with him, then dumped him last week when he tried pushing me. He didn't take it well."

My eyes narrow, "Did he try anything?"

"I punched him in the face and kicked him in the balls," she smirks. "Your lessons on self-defense paid off."

"I am sad you had to use them. May I punch him?"

"As much as I wouldn't mind seeing him with a broken nose or jaw, that would probably lead to a lawsuit and neither of us needs that."

I smirk into my sub.

Twenty minutes later the incident is pushed back while Pansy is attempting to find a Green Lantern t-shirt in Superboy's size. I am standing outside the dressing room as he tries on a pair of jeans I grabbed for him.

He steps out of the dressing room and I cock an eyebrow as he walks past me and stares at himself in the mirror. He tilts his head.

"The jeans look good," I comment. "Do they feel alright?"

"They feel fine," he answers distractedly, still staring at himself but not, I realize, at the jeans he's wearing.

I frown, "What is it?"

"I don't look like him, do I?"

I don't have to ask who 'him' is. I stand beside Superboy and stare at his reflection. I shrug, "You are not identical, but you also are not the same age as him and I'd imagine that you and him would age differently from, say, Pansy and myself."

"You think I'll look like him then?"

"Similar, likely," I answer truthfully. "Identical, in theory, but you will be leading different lives. Perhaps, you will receive a scar and he will not. Just because you have similar DNA does not mean that you have to be identical."

"We aren't cousins like you and Pansy," he points out.

"Pansy and I are not biologically related," I say. "Her mother's brother is my foster father, actually. He is not my biological father. I do not know who my biological father is."

"Is that a good thing?"

I turn to Superboy and look at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he wants me to say, what he needs me to say.

I answer candidly, "I do not know. There were certainly moments where I wished to know who my biological father was. I know that there is autism on his side of the family, which concerns my mother, so I would like to know, I suppose, for health reasons. But beyond that…before I was 8 it was just my mother and myself and we were…surviving. Then Calvin – my foster father – came into the picture and he was the first father-figure I ever really had. As far as I am concerned, Calvin is my father; that is all there is to it. It depends on you, I believe, whether knowing where you come from biologically is a good thing or a bad thing, or even necessary."

I hesitate then add, "For you, if you do not mind me saying, I believe that it is valuable information to know as much as you can, health-wise, about your "father". Seeing as you are rather unique on this planet. As far as having a relationship though…I do not believe it is necessary. I believe that biology does not automatically make you a family. Once that is worth having, at least." I squeeze his shoulder in what I hope is a reassurance.

He doesn't say anything.

"Found it!" Pansy declares, bounding over to us. She stops abruptly, the Green Lantern t-shirt hanging from her hand. She looks between us, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, "Were you making out?"

I turn to her, my eyebrows raised as I state sarcastically, "Absolutely."

I roll my eyes. Pansy rolls her eyes in return and tosses the t-shirt to Superboy, "Try it on. It'll be awesome."

Wordlessly, Superboy returns to the dressing room, lost in thought.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait! I went through about three different versions of this, so that's my only real excuse. Well, that and ~feels~ for the last couple episodes destroying my ability to write coherently.

I'm going to try and integrate a few of the YJ comic scenes into this story. Certainly not all of them, mainly because I don't have all of the comics thus far, but I shall try!

**Thanks Hybrid301, ViciousViper15, and Vanessa for your reviews! They made me all warm and fuzzy inside.**


	11. Sha'lain'a 4

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, and Kung Fu Hustle, are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, minor sexual implications, mention of domestic/child abuse**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Sha'lain'a**

"_When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child__."_

Sophia Loren

* * *

**4**

**Miami, Florida : July 2, 2010 – 13:14 EDT**

The letter is heavy. It is written in my sharp, scrawling handwriting upon thick pages that are all folded tightly and stuffed into a blue envelope I store in my surface-dwelling.

I slip on my sandals and barely glance at the barren, small apartment I call my surface-dwelling before I grab the doorknob and leave with the thick envelope in my jacket pocket. I lock the door behind me, although I know that anyone who bothers to target me wouldn't be blocked by a mere lock.

Habitually, I brush my long hair away from my face as I walk to the stairs. I sense the oddness in the stairwell as I begin walking down and I tense. When I turn the corner and come to the landing in front of the fourth floor I freeze.

He looks older.

"Sha'lain," he says, finally, for once in his life using the correct shortened version of my name. "Or should I say Christi?" That's the name I started using on the surface when I decided to finally purchase a surface-dwelling at least semi-legally. He smirks, the same smirk I know Kalla has.

He's wearing a pair of blue jeans, brown boots, a green t-shirt, and a gorgeous black leather jacket. His dark hair is shaved close to his scalp this time and his cheekbones are more defined than they were years ago. I wonder if this is the same face Kalladura'ham saw.

That thought prompts me to move. He stiffens and I dart forward, slamming my forearm against his throat and slamming his back against the side wall. He grunts and winces at the impact, his head colliding with the wall, and I keep him held against the wall and off the floor easily. My free hand moves back, my fingers curling and my senses finding every water pipe nearby.

"What the hell did you do?" I hear myself growl.

His large calloused hands grab my arm so that he isn't choking and he coughs, "Nothing – nothing _bad._"

My eyes flash. I release him and as he takes a second to rub his throat I grab his left wrist, twist it behind his back then slam him facefirst against the flight of descending stairs. I crouch over him, my knee digging into his back and my opposite sandaled foot by his face. I loosen my hold on him enough for him to turn his head, revealing the blood dripping from his nose and mouth. He coughs, again.

"You _electrocuted_ my baby!"

"I'm her father," he retorts.

I tighten my grip on his wrist. He winces. My thumb nearly brushes across the scarred flesh across his knuckles that I used to wish I could just make vanish. For as long as I've known him his hands have always been rough, calloused, scarred, and usually splattered with oil, dirt, or grease.

As I loosen my hold again he grunts, "She's _my daughter_. I'm not a monster. I wouldn't hurt my own daughter. I'll attack her as the Other Guy, but she can handle herself against that. I know her limits, Sha'lain. I know how to go over them without hurting her."

"You electrocuted her, David."

"No, I didn't."

"She remembers electricity entering her body but she can't remember anything else! What else could you possibly have done to her?"

"Electricity did enter her body but she wasn't being electrocuted. She agreed to let me test her abilities. That's all I did, Sha'lain. She showed me her abilities, I tested her physiology, and I observed the results."

"You used her as an experiment?"

"Kalla has most of the benefits of both an Atlantean and a Human, and she's my daughter. She's unique. I needed to know what she could do. You know I always need to know that."

I release him and stand, remembering the tests he was always so interested in having me do. All of the questions he asked me about vampires and skinshifters and were-creatures. He would spend hours upon hours in libraries and any archives he could get into just reading whatever caught his attention. He had always been a hunter for knowledge. He believed that knowledge was power, and that having enough information would always give you an advantage. He always wanted power because to him, power was also control, something he sorely lacked for _years._

Kalladura'ham was the same. She was nearly obsessive when it came to studying combat, strategy and tactics, important people and organizations she knew she could someday wind up interacting with as either Aqualass or Kalladura'ham. Other parents complained about their kids not reading enough. I complained about my kid not doing anything _but_ reading. She's more similar to her birth-father than I care to admit to anyone.

He sits up, wincing, bringing his hand to his nose and touching it gingerly. It wasn't broken but some of the skin had been wiped clear off and it had been jarred enough for it to start bleeding. He seemed to have bit his tongue as well.

I am unable to shake the scent that never seems to leave him. The scent of new books – I can almost hear his newest book opening in his hands, resting in front of his eyes – paired with gasoline – he's in the workshop, experimenting, building more and more mechanical marvels, even then he was looking into the possibility of building a battle suit – both mingling in seawater – he was never fond of forests, found them too enclosed, give him a river though, a prairie, an ocean, and he would soar.

I know far too much, remember far too much, about him.

I question, scared and angry, "What are you going to do with that information?"

"Nothing."

"Are you going to give it to any of your fellow supervillains? To any other criminals? To any other organizations?"

"No," he answers, shooting an irritated glare at me. "I'm not stupid, Sha'lain'a. I know what could happen if anyone else got their hands on it. They'll target her and kill her, maybe torture her."

I swallow at the thought.

He continues, "I will not let any of them do that to her."

"But if they do? If someone…Ocean Master, maybe that Luthor guy, get their hands on that information what will you do?"

"Kidnap Kalla again," David answers. "Train her, give her the information I have on Ocean Master or Lex."

"And if they get to her before you do?"

"I'll kill them."

"People have been trying to kill Ocean Master for years, and Luthor returns after every defeat even stronger. What makes you think you can do differently?"

He gets to his feet, "You know the answer to that Sha'lain'a. You used it yourself against me."

"You'll let them think you're on their side, and then you'll rip it all out from under them."

"Also, unlike the so-called heroes, I have no qualms with killing."

"How did you find me?"

"It took me 16 years to find you and you were sending a letter to me each year," David points out, sensing my irritation. "It wasn't easy."

"You still found me. I want to know how."

"The prevalence of cell phones is helpful. You try not to go to the same mailbox or post office every year, but there are only so many mailboxes and post offices. Post offices generally have cameras as well. I knew you would be near water, probably closer to Shayeris, so definitely not the northern half of the Eastern seaboard. I also tried to track down where you purchased your pens, paper, envelopes, where you got the photos developed then later where you got the digital camera…it was a variety of things that took me 16 years to place. Do you have a tissue in your apartment?"

"No," I lie.

"Liar."

"You don't get to go in my apartment," I explain tersely, striding past him. "I also still have to mail your letter."

"Just give it to me now."

"No."

"Why not? That would be easier."

"Because it would break our agreement made 16 years ago and if that's broken you'll start killing more people than you already do."

He turns to me, surprise creasing his features. His brows rise. He chuckles, turning away from me as we walk down the stairs, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you caught that. You've always been intelligent when it comes to deals."

"Had to be," I huff. "Aspasia always tried to trick me."

His smirk vanishes at the mention of Aspasia. The late-night and early-morning talks…confessions we had undoubtedly filtering back to his mind. The memories of when I told him about my time under Aspasia. What she did for me and what she did to me. He remains silent. He never did like Aspasia, my parents, or my siblings. I let him dislike them and he let me express my hatred for his parents. He never mentioned siblings. He didn't mention much about his birth family, but I know I have reason to hate his parents.

"I should just kill you," I mutter darkly as we stride out into the sun banishing away the ghosts.

"Mmm, you wouldn't," David says confidently, resting his hands in his jacket pockets

"I've killed before," I point out, rounding the corner to head to the nearest mailbox.

"Yes, but not anyone you've had a child with."

"I only have one child."

His eyes flick to me, "So that isn't a promise."

"Just because you're the father of my daughter doesn't mean I won't kill you."

I drop the envelope in the mailbox.

I walk down the street and turn into an alley, intent on heading to a café that serves some fantastic muffins. I stop at the sound of a gun cocking behind me and its metal resting against the back of my neck. I turn, raising an eyebrow as David moves the gun up to press its barrel between my eyes.

"Will you kill me now?" he questions, his voice low and his expression the same one I saw countless times before he killed someone. No. Wait, no. I'm wrong. There is a hint of a smirk. He is playing with me.

Fine. I will play.

I do not reply, merely twist away from the gun and snap my hand up, grabbing his wrist and twisting it back as I press my opposite hand against the back of his elbow. He expects my movement and twists with me, bending his arm and bringing his opposite hand around to bury his fingers in my hair. He pulls, sending me buckling over as pieces of hair rip from my scalp, and I lose my grip on his arm. He turns, grabbing my wrists, twisting them behind my back then slamming me face-first into the alley wall with my arms sandwiched between my back and his front.

I still.

"Remind me why you let Calvin into your home," he says, his breath ghosting across my ear. "As I recall, he's killed people too. I thought you didn't want to associate with murderers."

I remain silent. _Fuck._ He's still mesmerizing. The physical attraction is still there, that much is obvious. No other form of attraction, oh no, Calvin gets the rest plus the physical, David only gets the physical. All calluses and scars and fury, but still overcome with a defiant, endless determination to prove everyone else wrong.

I remain still.

"You haven't changed a bit," David remarks, his gun next to my side, his breath moving across my gills as he dips his head. "You know, Kalla already looks a lot like you. She's going to be a heartbreaker."

I slam my heel into his shin, followed swiftly by my elbow into his gut, my strength held back so as not to burst some organs or break some bones. He reels backwards and I twist, slamming my knee into his core. I grab the gun and promptly twist it in my grasp as I kick David to the ground. I crouch over him, pinning him to the ground, the barrel of the gun pressed against his forehead. I may be physically attracted to him, drawn by the danger he poses and the furious determination he exudes, like some lovesick teenager, but that means nothing.

I hiss, the gun making a circle against his forehead, "She is not me. She will not be hypnotized by her hormones and the allure of someone older, interesting, and apparently _worldly_, to the point where she will get too far in and have no chance of getting out. She will not allow anyone to take advantage of her. She will not let anyone else dictate her actions or who she is. She will stand behind her beliefs, no matter what she is faced with. She will not be me. She will not be you. She will not be Calvin. She will not be Orin or Mera. She will be her own woman, and if you try and take that from her I will not hesitate to _rip you apart_."

David seems unbothered by the fact that I have a gun trained on his head and remarks, "I have no doubt that our daughter will be, as you say, her own woman. That she will stand behind her beliefs." His apathy vanishes, replaced by obstinate assurance, "She just needs to find a belief to stand behind."

"She already has," I retort and stand, emptying the magazine and crushing it. I toss the gun in the dumpster then turn and stride away, "Do not follow me, David."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he calls. I can practically hear him smirking.

I barely restrain myself from whipping around and at least _glaring_ at him. Instead, I merely clench my hands into fists and continue walking

Daphne looks up when I enter the busy café. Her crimson eyes flick silently to the large windows as I grab my muffin and frozen lemonade from the oracle barista with the hidden eyes and sit across from the vampire. I let my eyes flick in the same direction and spot David turning a corner, that infernal smirk still playing at his lips.

I sigh, "I still do not know what he's planning. He said that he did not hurt her, he was only putting her through tests like the ones he put me through."

"Do you believe him?" she asks, the wide brim of her hat throwing her face into shadows that make her even more terrifying, but also more familiar. Her legs are covered in a white miniskirt and fishnet stockings stuffed into a pair of black heeled ankle-boots. Hanging from her neck and resting over her grey t-shirt patterned with fleur-de-lis is a tarnished gold locket that looks old and holds a grainy photograph of a little Korean-Canadian boy. Most who know that she's been alive for over 100 years assume that the locket is hers from when she was a child. It isn't. She found it in a pawn shop in 2002. The photograph is hers though. It's of her little brother. She calls him Jason.

I know enough about Daphne to know that Daphne isn't her birth name and Jason is probably not her little brother's birth name. I don't bother to wheedle her for her or her brother's birth names. I imagine that living for a century and taking on new identities like new shirts makes birth names either irrelevant or immeasurably precious. They are not to be given to anyone if they are precious, and they are not to be remembered if they are irrelevant.

I sigh and take a sip of my frozen lemonade. I set the drink down then slowly begin to unwrap my muffin, "I want to."

Daphne shoots me a look and leans forward, away from the men's spiked leather jacket hanging across the back of her chair. She clicks her tongue piercing against her top teeth and habitually grabs the ends of her hair, "Kid, do you believe him? Would David hurt his kid?"

"I know that his parents hurt him. I know about the abuse inflicted upon him when he ran away, or was kicked out…he was never clear on that. I know that he's killed people. I know that he's had people tortured." I exhale heavily, "I also know that he is efficient to a fault. He never does anything without it being a part of a larger plan, or of benefit to him in some way. He isn't fond of doing things "just" for fun. He always has to justify it as a piece of something larger."

"Could he gain anything from hurting her?"

"Her fear, but he got that by virtue of her memories not being clear."

"He must have realized that she wouldn't remember everything. He's a smart guy."

"I know. I cannot fathom what he could gain from hurting her and making her not remember it. He never kills, by his terms, needlessly. Not anymore at least. Before, he did, when we were kids, he thought it would give him some sort of control. It never did though, and then he went to prison. I guess he met some sick people there, people who get off on killing other people, and realized that he wasn't that."

"You were both kids then. That doesn't excuse what he did, killing so many people, but you were kids. He had no idea what he was doing. He thought he had an idea but he was wrong. People can be wrong."

"I should have been in prison years ago," I remark bitterly.

Daphne nods, "The only one of your family who shouldn't spend some time in prison is your daughter."

"Do you think it will stay that way?"

"Just because she has parents who are criminals doesn't mean she'll stay that way. Blood isn't what makes you family and it isn't what determines your future. You should know that by now. Your parents were terrible."

"True," I incline my head in agreement. "And the only person I consider family who is related to me by blood is my daughter."

"So did he hurt her?"

I sigh, "If he didn't then he would gain information. David loves information. He thrives on knowledge, just like Kalla. He could hurt her while getting that information but he usually doesn't enjoy hurting people like people seem to think he does, and I don't think he would let himself turn into his own father, or mother. He still likes me, I know that, and he seems to care for Kalla."

"It sounds like you're saying he didn't hurt her. That he won't."

"She said that it's almost like David's trying to turn her into a worthy opponent," I comment. My eyes flick to Daphne's, "If that were the case it would mean that he wants to fight against her. I have no doubt that he wants her mentor killed but if he doesn't want to hurt her then why would he be trying to turn her into a worthy fighting opponent?"

Daphne frowns, pondering my question, "What if he's not trying to end up on an even playing field with her?"

"Pardon?"

"Maybe this is his convoluted way of trying to get involved in her life, of not only biologically being her father but trying to act in a…paternal manner with her. Moreso than through those letters."

"By fighting her?"

"By _training_ her."

I blink.

"Whenever she goes up against other opponents there is a risk of her being seriously wounded, right?"

"Do not remind me," I say, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

"When she fights against Ocean Master she will bleed and bruise a lot."

"Please stop talking about my daughter like that."

"But when she faces David," Daphne continues as if I never spoke, "she has a tendency to get away with small bruises, small cuts, and with a loss of breath but no serious injuries. Right?"

I frown, recalling the battles Kalladura'ham told me about, recalling the moments when I was called to consult on her healing.

"Does she get away from those battles against David and find it easy to pinpoint areas she could improve on?"

"Fuck." I rest my forehead on the table, muttering, "He's training her, _fuck_. I didn't even realize."

"I doubt you were supposed to."

"He tested her to get more solid information on her physical limitations. That's why she was gone for so long. Of course he didn't want anyone to know what he did, so he made her memories hazy. He even said that if any other criminals got their hands on his information on her he'd take her again, train her, give her the information he has on the criminal in question, the information to beat them. If the criminals got to her before he did, he'd kill the criminals."

Daphne raises her reusable coffee mug to her lips, "So what are you gonna do now?"

"Hope he told the truth and if he did, I will wait and watch. Ensure that he does not try and take my baby from me under the guise of being a good and present father."

"You'll deny him that?"

"Absolutely. All he's been doing for years is parading around in that costume like a child playing a game. He's just been plotting the demise of my nation. Calvin is a better father, and even if he wasn't, I'd be a better father before David. Kalla doesn't need his shadow hanging over her. She's dealing with enough now."

Daphne raises an eyebrow.

"She's pining after someone – I think it's Tula – and she knows that Tula – the individual she's pining after – is not attracted to her in the slightest. The backlash from the media after that oil spill shook her up, and has made her pay more attention to the media itself which is making her feel like more of an outsider on the surface-world because she isn't…_there_ usually unless she's being painted as someone terrible."

"In the mainstream at least."

"Our world's – the magical one's – media is a little more forgiving so I know she tries to focus on that media but it's difficult to escape the mainstream one, especially when she's basically an ambassador between Atlantis and the surface-world and she has to be aware of what the mainstream media is saying about her."

"What about Atlantis?"

"She's a hero in Atlantis. There are the purists, of course, who try to bring her down, along with those people who still believe in the Curse of Kordax, but they're shut down pretty quickly. Her attention there is favourable for the most part."

"I thought most Atlanteans weren't fond of the relations with the surface-world."

"It is still a controversial topic, but unless the relations are highlighted or are threatened in some way they usually aren't brought up. We are a big place. There are plenty of more local issues that gain attention first."

I sigh, knocking my sandals against the legs of my chair, "I believe she may be having some friend issues as well. The surface-world…I have no doubt that she enjoys her job but I know that she is closest with Roy and he can be…difficult for someone like my daughter, who is calmer and is not always fond of spontaneity. Back home I believe that her crush is putting a strain on her friendships, and I know that while she considers some others her friends they have a tendency to consider her to be a role model, a mentor of sorts, because of her position and skill set. She is..frustrated, I believe, with the lack of people willing to wait and learn how she operates, as a friend."

"What do you mean?"

"Most of the friends she's had have insisted on speeding up their friendship quicker than she would like. She prefers to take things slowly, and it seems as though most of the people she is around do not understand that when she wishes to be left alone it is not an insult and there is not something wrong with her. She likes to be alone."

"You want to be a teenager again and be her friend?"

"Poseidon _no._ I was terrible. Besides I…like to consider myself her friend now. There are few secrets between us."

Daphne raises an eyebrow.

"Barring David and some points of my past."

"But you're withholding that information because you're her mother."

I hesitate, "I suppose so."

Daphne reaches across the table and takes my hands – I did not realize that I had been methodically tearing apart the napkin for my muffin. Gently, she squeezes them, "You're a good mother, Sha'lain'a. You're raising an amazing daughter."

I half-smile at her.

Daphne squeezes my hands one last time then pulls away and announces softly, "I am Gina now, by the way."

My smile grows and I nod to Daphne-turned-Gina, "A pleasure to meet you, Gina."

* * *

**Zeelie Residence, Toronto, Ontario : July 7, 2010 – 16:22 EDT**

The suburban residence is familiar. Has been so for years. I telepathically sense my daughter's presence first.

_::: Rini, Orin told me of what occurred. :::_

_::: I am well, Matim. My attention is occupied elsewhere. ::: _Kalladura'ham assures me.

_::: Occupied? By what? :::_

_::: Superman's teenage clone. :::_

_::: …I was not expecting that. :::_

_::: Who was? :::_

"Sha'lain," Kaleb greets me, opening the door and admitting Calvin and I to his family's home. "Kalla said you and Calvin might be coming."

Beside me, Calvin grins, his grasp on my shoulders loosening as he moves forward to greet his brother-in-law, "Peggy home yet?"

"Still at work," Kaleb explains.

"How were the Canada Day celebrations?"

"Loud," Kaleb smirks. "We sat on the roof and watched the fireworks. Pansy has about two hundred temporary tattoos of maple leafs and flags for the occasion."

"Clearly not on her," Calvin comments as we enter the living room where Pansy is swearing at the television and trying to explain to the white teenage boy beside her the background of the film playing. It seems to be a horror film.

The boy seems to only be half paying attention and is scratching at the maple leaf tattoo on his right cheek irritably while sprawled across the chair to the right Kalladura'ham is pressing another temporary tattoo onto her right calf. He frowns at the screen, "Why would she go upstairs? There's no way to get out."

"It's a horror film thing," Kalladura'ham explains, pulling away the wet cloth and then the temporary tattoo's paper to reveal a red maple leaf on her calf.

"It's stupid."

"Matim, Patera, how was the trip?" she questions, raising her head to look at Calvin and I.

"Uneventful," I answer, striding across the room to reach her. "You are well?"

"Yes, Matim. I am, I already told you-"

"Sha'lain, she's fine," Calvin cuts in.

I shoot him a glare but pull away from Kalladura'ham anyway. I turn to the boy, "This is…"

"Currently, he's Jacques," Pansy explains.

"We are trying out different names," Kalla expands.

Pansy shrugs, "Only name I was given for him was Superboy and if he's a superhero he needs a secret ID so he needs a name. Thus, Jacques."

Superboy/Jacques grimaces.

"How about Kyle?"

Superboy/Jacques shakes his head, "No."

"Ty."

He blinks.

"Josh."

Superboy shrugs.

"Now he's Josh," Pansy says, looking up at me.

"I see," I say, glancing down at Kalla. She seems unbothered by the exchange. Obviously, the exchange has occurred before. _::: We would like to speak with you. :::_

Kalla's eyes flick up to me quizzically then she stands, tossing the wet cloth to Pansy, and walks towards me. Behind me, Calvin begins climbing the stairs.

"Should I pause it?" Pansy questions abruptly, not bothering to question our behaviour. She has been around magic for too long, clearly.

"No," Kalladura'ham says. "I have seen it already, remember?"

Pansy shrugs then turns back to the film, nudging Superboy/Josh's shoulder with her foot to get him to look back at the television rather than occupy himself with the rest of us. "Dude, watch. You'll never understand it if you don't."

"Understand?" he repeats, staring at the television incredulously. "It's a guy in a mask slaughtering a group of idiots."

"Okay, so it isn't a mentally stimulating movie. We should watch Kung Fu Hustle after this. You'd probably like that. Might not understand it…your pop culture knowledge is pathetic…but there's lots of ass-kicking."

I hear Superboy/Josh grumble, "Better not be any idiots."

"Badass idiots. Oh, dude, don't eavesdrop on them. I know, superhearing and all. Here, I'll turn this up really loud so you can't accidentally eavesdrop 'cause that's just rude."

The slaughtering taking place on the television is turned up. We can hear it on the top floor.

I shut Kalladura'ham's door behind me, giving us a barrier for the noise from the TV to pass through. Our daughter is perched on the bed, her legs crossed, and she's watching warily as Calvin stands in front of the closet with his arms crossed – is he trying to make her think she's in trouble or something? I start immediately, "You are not in trouble."

She shoots me a puzzled look and raises an eyebrow. Her thumbs massage her calves unconsciously and she looks between myself and Calvin – who has yet to uncross his arms but thankfully is not presenting himself as if he's angry, just worried. I explain as I sit on the bed next to her, "We have been speaking with Orin and Mera."

Her eyes widen, partially from my casual use of Annex and Anassa's names which always unnerves her, and partially from the implications of my words.

"Orin told us what happened in D.C.," Calvin explains, "and explained the options available to you. He agreed to let us tell you about them first."

"Options?" she repeats, perking up.

"As he explained to us, you have some options the other protégés do not have," I say. "You can continue your schooling in an institution, rather than being privately instructed."

"Return to the Conservatory with Tula?" she says, torn between brightening and being frightened. Brightening wins out and she smiles hopefully, "That would be…nice."

"Hear the other options," Calvin says quickly. "Or, you can be transferred in the military. You would be learning under someone else, getting some different experiences, and putting your more specific military-training to good use. Or, you can take Batman's option."

She cocks an eyebrow, "Batman's option? What exactly would that option be?"

"Orin thinks it may be a team. A…black ops team of sorts," I clarify, attempting to restrain my anxiety with the idea of my baby girl being on a black ops team for the Justice League. I know that Kalladura'ham will not like my anxiety and it will influence her decision. Possibly swaying her to make a decision that she is not 100% happy with. I do not want that for her.

"Then, of course, the options to continue being his protégé or trying the civilian life are open," Calvin says.

"There is no option to be an independent operative?"

"Not that he mentioned, but," I tilt my head at her, "do you want to be an independent operative?"

I know her far too well. She stiffens and for a split-second dread crosses her face. She is frightened of the prospect of having to make her own life-or-death decisions, of having to be a superheroine with no one telling her, or advising her, on the best course of action. She is newly 16, which is, by Atlantean standards, a year away from being an adult and that simultaneously terrifies and excites her. I am unsurprised. It is a frightening prospect for a teenager and it shows, if only for an instant. She tries to hide the fear, as usual, because her reputation is one that boasts of her fearlessness, her reliability, her confidence, and her calm, and because teenagers simply are not supposed to fear adult independence, they are supposed to want it desperately all of the time. Which is a ridiculous expectation but still, somehow, present.

I expect the lack of an answer, but it was a question that needed to be asked. She needs to consider it when making her decision.

"Must I choose now?" Kalladura'ham questions, worry creasing her forehead.

"Of course not."

"Orin did say that Batman wanted you to give him three days," Calvin points out. "Take advantage of that and sleep on it."

Kalladura'ham nods silently, gnawing on her lower lip while her fingers fiddle with her toes, pondering and silently debating with herself.

Orin, Mera, all of her instructors, and even her friends, have said that she is mature. They often seem to forget that she is still a teenager and requires some guidance. That she is frightened of and excited for what the future holds. That she is still trying to grasp her full abilities and skills, still trying to figure it all out, who she is, what she wants, how relationships, friendships, those weird things with parents, and how crushes work.

She is still new to this world. I wish others would remember that.

* * *

**A/N: **Oh. My. God. This was excruciating to finish. Sorry for the delay.

Updates will likely be slower now as I have two jobs currently, one of which demands a massive chunk of my time and writing mojo. Also, the next 2 ½ weeks are crazy busy so my steam for writing is going to be severely depleted. I will be impressed if I manage to update in a week. Sorry about this in advance, but RL calls!

**You have no idea how much I love you appreciating this story.**


	12. Kalladura'ham 8

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 103: Happy Harbor._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, discussion of rape, racism & sexism**_

_**Edit: changed La'gann to La'gaan; fixed 'June 9' to 'July 9'**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with the roughest courage. When they are real, they are not glass threads or frost-work, but the solidest thing we know."_

Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

**8**

**Athena's Gym, Toronto, Ontario : July 7, 2010 – 17:08 EDT**

Yesterday, while Uncle Kaleb took Superboy/Grant out on a mini-tour of Toronto, Pansy and I had spent most of the day in her mother's gym, her trying to get more information on Superboy/Grant out of me and me refusing while demanding that she continues to run laps and stop whining about it. She did, after all, request that I train her four years ago. The sessions have been continuing since.

The mini-tour apparently went well because when Superboy/Grant got back with Uncle Kaleb he apparently had a full understanding of hockey, had an uCell – of which Pansy complained about, loudly, only for about two minutes as she had to pay for her own uCell and it wasn't fair that her father bought Superboy/Grant one – and had a copy of one of Uncle Kaleb's favourite cookbooks. Apparently, the cookbook was to educate Superboy/Grant on the variety of food available to him.

Uncle Kaleb taught Superboy/Grant how to make lactose-intolerant friendly enchiladas that night. They were quite delicious. Pansy ate the leftovers for breakfast the next day. I had a feeling that Uncle Kaleb had clued into the parental-issues Superboy/Grant had due to Superman and felt bad so was allowing himself to act as a father-figure to Superboy/Grant. Likely, it was also a good experience for Uncle Kaleb. I knew, from Pansy, that Kodi moving across the country for school had hit Uncle Kaleb hard and he wound up overcompensating for the lack of two kids to spoil that he put all of his attention on Pansy for about two months after Kodi left which had been a tad stifling for her, unfortunately. Uncle Kaleb seemed to have found a better balance and adjusted to the change after the two months, but now that Superboy/Grant was here it was a reminder of his son being across the country, away from him, his protection, his support.

Aunt Peggy, from what Pansy told me, apparently adjusted as well as Uncle Kaleb did to Kodi's move across country. She just hid it better. Pansy and I bet that her reaction was partially because of her own family experiences which, from the scant information I gathered from Patera, were not the greatest and typified by family members leaving. Pansy emailed me the first time her mother cried after Kodi left. I told Patera. He had to go to the surface to talk to his sister. He returned home with his eyes red. I had never seen Patera cry before. All I found out from that experience was that in their family, staying, even when things got immeasurably hard, was a rarity. Apparently, Patera, when he was my age, hadn't been that rarity. His sister had though.

Her tenacity has paid off. Aunt Peggy managed to own her own gym and now regularly books off a private room for me to help Pansy with her training and, occasionally, spar with Matim and Patera on the surface. The room Aunt Peggy books off for us is large and magically reinforced by Matim, with a sparring circle in the centre, a set of weights that we enchant to be actual weights by Atlantean standards, and the supplies I use for training Pansy.

Uncle Kaleb is out doing a tour of some museum to scope it out before he considers making it one of his class's field trips in autumn so he's gone. Pansy, Superboy/Grant, my parents, and myself decided to walk to Aunt Peggy's gym where Pansy and I introduced Superboy/Grant to our private training room.

After stretching, and guiding Superboy/Grant through similar stretches, I rise to find Matim looking at me challengingly. I hesitate, prompting Superboy/Grant to look between us quizzically, "What?"

I glance at him, "Would you like a demonstration? Afterwards, I can start teaching you."

He frowns, "I don't need to learn that type of stuff. I'm a living weapon."

"When I was a kid, younger than all of you, I fought for money," Matim says, facing Superboy/Grant. "My…boss…I suppose you could call her, she considered me to be a weapon. And she was right. I was her weapon. But even a weapon has a weakness and weapons use techniques to help them overcome those weaknesses."

Superboy/Grant crosses his arms, clearly not believing my matim.

"Do you want to be a hero?" Matim questions, crossing her bare arms over her chest.

"I was created to replace Superman should he perish, or destroy him," Superboy/Grant retorts impatiently. I glance at Pansy. Surprise crosses her face at his retort. She looks at me quizzically. I shoot a glare at her. She promptly shuts her mouth and doesn't question it.

"That does not answer my question," Matim points out. "I asked you if you want to be a hero."

He stares at her, uncertainty crossing his face. Swiftly, the uncertainty is replaced by a stubborn frown.

"It doesn't matter what you were created to be, what you were created for. What matters is what _you _want," Matim emphasizes. "And if you want to be a hero then you need to learn how to fight instead of simply throwing yourself at someone and hoping that your Kryptonian genetics will protect you and turn the battle in your favor. Relying on your powers like that will get you killed."

"I'm indestructible," he argues.

"No, you're not. You're vulnerable to kryptonite, to magic, to telepathy…you're vulnerable to plenty of things. The reputation that has accompanied Superman's powers though, that is what gives him most of his successes. No one wants to face him because usually, they do not have access to kryptonite, or magic, or telepathy. I do. So does Kalladura'ham. So do some of the people you will face if you decide to be a hero. You have to know how to fight the people who know all of your weaknesses. You have to know how not to break when confronted by them. That is where technique comes in."

"I don't need this," he shakes his head.

Matim narrows her eyes and lifts her hand. My eyes widen as her biological channels glow and wind around her arms. I dart out of the way, grabbing Pansy simultaneously, and a blast of energy erupts from my matim's hand. It collides with Superboy/Grant's chest, sending him careening backwards then it splits into eight different tendrils, mimicking an octopus as it wraps its tendrils around Superboy/Grant's arms, keeping them clamped against his sides before stretching down and wrapping around his legs.

Beneath my body I can feel Pansy gasping, her eyes wide as she stares at Superboy/Grant. He falls to the floor, constrained by the tendrils of magic, and Pansy winces.

"Matim," I call, concerned.

She lowers her hand and the tendrils of energy dissipate in the air. Superboy/Grant rolls onto his feet, growling, a bruise revealed against his chest where he had been first hit by the energy which made a hole in his shirt.

"That is so cheating," Pansy comments, rising as I do.

"Criminals do not care about the rules," Patera points out, advancing on me. Pansy darts to the side and I dodge my patera's attack. "Superboy, you'll have to work with Kalla. Fend off our advances."

I move backward swiftly as Superboy backs up, more of Matim's magic surrounding us and pushing us until we're back-to-back.

"Switch," I mutter. "In three."

Superboy growls and twists abruptly around me to advance on my patera. I spin out of his way, mentally swearing as Matim's barrier of magic sprouts arms and trips Superboy, giving Patera the opening to wallop him across the jaw then flip him onto his back. I leap over two arms and duck beneath a third, prompting my channels to glow as I advance on Matim. I need a distraction of some sort. I'll never get her down by approaching from the front.

"ARGH!"

Patera flips through the air, crashing across the ground, and rolls, narrowly avoiding being pummeled by Superboy.

"Channel your anger!" Patera shouts, getting to his feet quickly to grab Superboy's arm and flip him over his hip. "You'll never take a smart opponent down by charging blindly at them!"

I take my chance, rolling to the side then leaping past Matim's barrier and twisting, electricity surging up my arms. Matim's foot collides with my side.

I hit the ground and roll instinctively, silently realizing that I should have expected her to know what I was doing. She was my first trainer, after all.

"Don't kill him Grant!" Pansy shouts, distracting both Matim and I from our fight to look at Patera and Superboy/Grant. "It's just a sparring match!"

Patera is in an improvised hold of Superboy/Grant's and choking. Patera must be holding back...and Superboy isn't letting up. Why isn't he letting up?

"Superboy!" I shout, darting forward.

Patera wrenches Superboy's little finger back and takes advantage of Superboy's startled movement to twist out of his grasp and slam him down into a hold that took me ages to finally learn how to get out of. Patera hisses, pressing Superboy's face against the floor, "Get a hold of yourself. Channel your emotions into your attacks. Do not let them control you."

Superboy grunts in response.

"Am I understood?" Patera snaps.

Superboy grunts.

Patera seems to take that as a 'yes' and releases Superboy. I look at Patera, concerned, "Are you well?"

He nods, "Of course."

"Perhaps you need to try something else," I suggest as Superboy rises.

"Yeah, like what?" Superboy questions.

I shrug, "I enjoy meditation."

"I doubt he'll enjoy that," says Pansy. "He can run with me while you spar with your parents or meditate or something."

I flick my eyes to Superboy. He shrugs. I nod, "If you wish."

"I wish," Pansy says. "C'mon Supes, we'll head outside. Be back in a bit."

With some prodding from Pansy, Superboy follows her out of the room.

Matim looks at me meaningfully, "He is very frustrated."

I snort, "You noticed?"

"He is confused and uncertain, and expresses that through his anger," says Matim. "Understandable. He is likely overwhelmed and considering he is here rather than with Superman I doubt his first impression of the man was a good one."

I nod silently.

Patera looks at Matim, "We were angry when we were kids."

"Yes, but not for the reasons he is."

"Similar reasons. Family issues, control issues."

"I suppose," Matim nods. She looks at me, "He is welcome in our home at any time."

I nod, "Which one?"

"Any of them. If he needs assistance, if you think he needs some help from someone who is not one of his peers…we will be there."

"I know."

Patera wraps an arm over my shoulders and squeezes me to his chest then chuckles and pats my shoulder as he pulls away, "Come on Princess, you think you can beat your old patera?"

I smirk, "I_ am_ getting better."

* * *

**Toronto, Ontario : July 8, 2010 – 07:55 EDT**

"Do you have any questions before we leave?" I question, tugging on my jacket sleeve self-consciously.

Superboy hesitates then questions, "That Jason guy what…what was that?"

I furrow my brow, "That was not what I was referring to…but…well…Pansy used to date him. He wanted to move forward before she was ready and did not respect her wish to wait, her…unease with the situation."

"Situation?"

"Jason wanted to have sex with her. Pansy did not, she was not ready. He didn't respect that and…attempted to force her. So she punched him, kicked him, dumped him, and demanded that he stay away from her."

"He tried to rape her."

I nod, "Yes."

"That's a crime."

"Yes."

"She could have pressed charges."

"Her confidence in cases such as that being taken seriously is low."

"Why?"

"Because in the past, and now actually, they have not been taken particularly seriously."

Superboy crosses his arms, glowering at nothing in particular, "But why?"

"Sexism and racism. Her age is a hurdle as well. I plan on frightening him if he continues to harass her."

"I'll come."

"I would prefer it if you did not. My apologies, but it would mean more if it was just me." I look at him quizzically, "Did the G-Gnomes not teach you about sexism and racism?"

"I know the history."

"But not the practical outcomes."

Superboy just looks at me.

"I will summarize it for you: it sucks." I pause, "Anything else?"

He shakes his head, his brow furrowed in thought.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : July 8, 2010 – 08:00 EDT**

I walk through the zeta-beam teleporter tube and hear it state my designation – B02 – followed by Superboy's designation – B04 – then walk into the interior of Mount Justice. My eyebrows rise at the sight of the mountain being refurbished to be fit, once again, for habitation and mission control, and I walk forward.

"Sweet, huh?" Kid Flash comments, dressed in civvies and standing beside Robin who is also in civvies, with, naturally, dark sunglasses atop his eyes in an effort to hide his identity. He darts past me just as quickly, greeting Superboy, "Hey Supey! How was staying at Aqualass' place?"

"Fine," he grunts.

"Nice shirt," Robin comments, eyeing Superboy's black-and-red Superman t-shirt. He glances at me quizzically.

I shrug in response, "He chose it. My cousin got him t-shirts for the entire League. Do you know what is to occur?"

He shrugs, "No idea. Bats said three days, it's been three days."

"Since you four," Batman says, prompting us teenagers to turn and face him, "are determined to stay together and fight the good fight, you'll do it on League terms."

My eyes widen.

"Red Tornado has volunteered to live here and be your supervisor," Batman explains, gesturing to the android. "Black Canary is in charge of training," said woman smirks at us, "I will deploy you on missions."

Excellent. Then my decision to take the Batman option was a good one.

"Real missions?" quizzes Robin.

"Yes, but covert."

"The League will still handle the obvious stuff. There's a reason we have these big targets on our chests," Flash explains, gesturing to his own lightning-bolt symbol. The same symbol is on Kid Flash's chest when he's in uniform.

"Cadmus proves the bad guys are getting smarter," Annex adds. "Batman needs a team that can operate on the sly."

Batman nods in confirmation, "The five of you will be that team."

"Cool!" Robin grins. "Wait, five?"

I frown as the zeta-beam teleporter tube announces, / Martian Manhunter 07. Miss Martian B05. /

Wait.

Wait.

_Miss_ Martian?

No way, no way, no way, no way, no way.

Martian Manhunter enters the room slightly behind a teenage Martian girl in a blue skirt, blue cape, and white t-shirt with a red X across it.

Excellent.

"This is the Martian Manhunter's niece, Miss Martian," explains Batman.

"Liking this gig more every minute," says Kid Flash wryly to Robin.

He turns to Miss Martian but before he can open his mouth I dart forward and promptly hold out my hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Martian. Welcome to Earth. I am Aqualass."

Please don't hit on her. Please don't hit on her. _Please_ do not hit on her.

"I'm honoured to be included," she says, shaking my hand lightly while grinning.

She is utterly adorable.

"I'm Kid Flash, that's Robin, Superboy," says Kid Flash, darting beside me. "S'cool if you forget their names."

"Hey Supey, come meet Miss M," Robin calls back to Superboy, whom I did not notice had not joined us in greeting Miss Martian.

He walks forward, looking hesitant, and Miss Martian's t-shirt shifts colours, changing from dominantly white to dominantly black. She smiles up at Superboy, "I like your t-shirt."

A faint smile crosses his face. He should really smile more often.

"Superboy," announces Batman, "most of us will be leaving. You are not to go anywhere. Just sit tight until Red Tornado returns."

I frown. Couldn't Superboy just return to my cousin's place?

"We will be leaving soon as well to gather M'gann's belongings," says Martian Manhunter, presumably referring to Miss Martian. "I brought her by to familiarize herself with the new living environment first."

"Sir?" I turn to Annex as Kid Flash begins speaking to Superboy. "There is a mission?"

"Yes," Annex confirms. "It is called Aqualass Is On Leave and Should Use It."

I shuffle my feet awkwardly.

"Your matim wants to check your channels again," he adds. "We'll be going to the palace."

"The palace?" I repeat, puzzled. Should I not be going to Shayeris?

"Mera would like to know more about them as well."

"Oh, I see."

* * *

**Poseidonis, Atlantis : July 8, 2010 – 10:22 UTC-03**

Checking my channels took longer than normal. With lots of _looks_ communicated between Matim, Annex, and Anassa. I still do not know what to think of those looks. On the bright side, my channels do not appear to have been altered. Or, if they have, they are not debilitating alterations.

I still wish to know what Black Manta did to me.

I am supposed to push that from my mind though and relax. Annex ordered me to relax and take a break. That is…a foreign concept. So foreign that despite the thought that I should probably head to the Conservatory's dormitories and wait for my friends to show up so I can explain that I will be departing for Shayeris and then the surface in the next few days due to my job, I wind up at the training fields. Where I watch as the lower classes practice. Topo and La'gaan are in one of those classes. Tula, Lori, Garth, Ronal – the only other individual in the Conservatory with the Curse of Kordax – and Blubber are in the upper classes while King Nanaue Sha'ark tends to migrate from class to class, due mostly to his duties to his city-state, Nanauve, taking up much of his time. He had inherited the leadership of his city-state after the death of the previous King, his father, in a skirmish with purists, but he still wishes to continue his education at the Conservatory. It is difficult for him, as I am well aware, which tends to contribute to his foul attitude towards those whom he considers 'chum' AKA food.

I try and cut Nanaue some slack most of the time. Thankfully, although he can be rather violent and emphasize what his diet consists of rather callously, when it comes to the politics with his city-state – those that do not apply directly to war and battle at least – he tries to be more level-headed. The leadership of a city-state is a lot to put on someone his age. My age.

I remember when Annex and I arrived at Nanauve after the purists attacked two years ago. The place was in a state of panic. Annex had immediately got to work helping to lead the soldiers there in the defense of their city-state and quelling the panic. I had been ordered to locate Nanauve's leaders with a squad. We found the fallen King Sha'ark floating in his own blood with his son furiously attempting to obliterate the purists around him. He had already bitten two legs off and a fin by the time we got there. There was a lot of red. It took everything I had just to get Nanaue out of there, keep him from chomping down on anymore purists, and get him calm enough to move into the position he had been born to possess. Annex and I remained there for a week helping with the recovery and assisting in the punishment dealt to the purists we managed to capture. Nanaue had been sent home from the Conservatory two weeks ago to help his city-state deal with the threats of attack from the purists. He had never expected to watch his city-state be attacked and thrown nearly into ruin.

I had to spend the first month when Nanaue returned to the Conservatory keeping him from eating anyone he thought was a purist, both for revenge for his patera and for his city-state. He still doesn't seem to like me that much though. Understandably, I probably smell delicious to him. Why would you make friends with someone who smells like food?

A squeak spawns from Topo's mouth once he spots me on the edge of the training field, half-observing as he practices his sorcery.

"Aqualass!" he exclaims swimming towards me. "What are – you must have something better – he-hello!"

"You're such a minnow," La'gaan comments, swimming ahead of Topo to greet me with a broad grin. "Kalladura'ham, milady, a pleasure, as always." He takes my hand and bows deeply before me. He rises, a cocky smirk on his young face, "Come to witness my _daring _feats?"

I smirk, "My mentor has granted me some leave. I am spending it getting in some quality time with my friends here before I move."

Almost immediately, La'gaan's cocky expression and Topo's nervous one fall into alarmed concern. "Move?" La'gaan repeats, stunned. "You are moving?"

"I will be returning to Shayeris to be closer to the surface-world and better perform my new duties as Aqualass."

As well as be near the expert on my artificial channels in case our more recent diagnosis of my channels proves to be incorrect.

"New duties?" Topo inquires, moving forward and managing to push La'gaan slightly to the side without the cockier boy noticing. "What new duties?"

"A team of protégés is being formed. I am to be on it, along with Robin, Kid Flash, and two newcomers, Superboy and Miss Martian."

"Awesome!" Topo gushes.

La'gaan grins, "You're moving up then?"

"Perhaps," I say.

"Wait for me. I'm gonna be a hero too."

I quirk a smirk, "Train enough, and I am certain you will."

"Come on, I'll show you this awesome trick I've been practic-"

"Kalladura'ham, you are distracting my students quite effectively," Ja'aana says, swimming up to us.

I quickly salute my old instructor, "My apologies. I only meant to observe."

"Care to give a demonstration?" she questions.

"I would be honoured, but I am afraid that I must search out some of my other friends."

"Of course," Ja'aana nods as La'gaan frowns and Topo does his version of a pout. "Good luck."

I salute her again then nod to La'gaan and Topo, "I will visit."

"I can't just get my Aqualass fix from the news you know," La'gaan says. "Being across from you is so much better."

"We shouldn't hold her back, La'gaan. She needs to say goodbye to her friends," Topo points out, fiddling with his hands.

I move forward on a whim and hug them both. Topo squeaks upon contact, and as I pull away La'gaan grabs my arm tighter and says, "Milady, you would really leave me?"

I exhale heavily and cock an eyebrow at La'gaan, "Release me, La'gaan."

He lets go, "Alright, but you better come back."

"I said I would visit."

"Soon."

"Perhaps." At his frown, I add, "My job is unpredictable, you both know that."

"Then I'll just have to come up there and start kicking ass."

"Train first," I advise. "Your training will save your life."

He frowns then sighs, "Fine, I'll train."

"Homework too."

"That's for minnows! Like Topo!"

"If I did not do my homework then I would not have been able to figure out how to defeat the Sirens. And I thought Topo was your friend."

"_Alright_, I'll do my homework." La'gaan relents. "And he is. He doesn't mind it when I call him minnow."

I look at Topo quizzically, "Do you mind it, Topo?"

Topo shifts anxiously, "Not…I mean it's mean when people like King Sha'ark say it but I get why and I…"

"Do you like it?"

"N-Not really."

La'gaan looks shocked, "What? But you didn't even…"

I fixate La'gaan with a _look_. La'gaan quickly backtracks, "Okay, right, sure, need a different nickname for you then Topo."

"Topo, make sure you tell him if you don't like it."

Topo nods quickly, "Okay."

"And make sure he actually does his homework."

Topo chuckles and mock salutes me.

"I will see you later," I wave and swim away from them, intent upon locating Garth and Tula specifically.

I find Garth and Tula laughing at something in the Conservatory's Library. They quickly quiet themselves and promptly start snickering when I swim up to them.

"Did I do something?" I question as Tula rises quickly. I hug Tula tightly, memorizing the way the longer pieces of her short red hair brush across my cheek when she hugs me.

"It is nothing," says Garth as I move forward to hug him. "We merely heard of what you did during the first part of your leave."

"Oh," I pull away from Garth and look between the pair. "Why is that humorous?"

"You working during your time off is so utterly _you_," Tula giggles. I smile at the sound, figuring that if that is what it takes to make her laugh then I may as well just continue working.

"Not many others would do that," Garth adds with a grin. "I thought you were still on leave, why are you here?"

"I will not be staying in Poseidonis much longer," I explain.

"What?" Tula hisses. "You must be joking."

"I am afraid that I am not. I will be becoming a part of a team of protégés for the League therefore I need to be closer to land."

"You are going to live on the surface-world?" questions Garth.

"I am going to live in Shayeris, with my parents, see what happens. If that is not ideal then I will move to the surface."

Tula looks wholly disappointed, "But you are definitely leaving Poseidonis."

I nod, "Yes."

"That is wonderful for you," she says with a strain. "But," she glances at Garth, "we will miss you."

"I am certain you will be fine without me," I say confidently. "You will find things to occupy the time I took up."

"Oh, because you are such a burden as a friend," Garth snorts.

I strain a smile, "I will miss you as well Garth." I look at Tula, "And you, Tula, I will miss you…a lot."

She smiles and promptly flings her arms around me. I wrap my arms around her and bury my head in the crook between her shoulder and neck, forever fascinated by her lack of gills, my hands around her waist, the curve of her hips against my forearms. I shut my eyes.

Garth coughs.

Tula pulls away abruptly and to cover my momentary lapse in judgement that probably made Tula uncomfortable as well as Garth, I move to Garth and wrap my arms around him tightly. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and says into my ear, "Remember to visit."

"Yeah, don't forget us," Tula agrees.

"I could never forget you."

Her sky-blue eyes are forever imprinted in my memory.

* * *

**Star City, California : July 9, 2010 – 09:12 PDT**

_Knockknockknock._

I sigh then call past the decrepit door I had traced Roy to, "Roy, it is Kalla. I wish to speak with you. I…understand if you do not wish to see me or speak to me, I suppose my actions – or lack of action – could be perceived as an insult. I do apologize for that and hope you will permit me to explain why I could not-"

The door swings open. Roy fixates me with a glare. I stare at him, my mouth still half-open in forming the letter 'a'. He rolls his eyes then moves to the side, gesturing with a bare arm for me to come in. I enter quickly, taking in the sparse furnishings and neglected but vaguely cared for walls and counter. He clearly spent most of his time keeping his weapons, Speedy uniform, and gear up to par, and had purchased this on a whim.

"I've started buying some more places. Shitholes, to store gear and sleep in when I'm in another city," he explains, tossing a book off the couch to give me a place to sit on the rickety green couch. I think it pulls out into a bed.

"Logical," I comment, raising my gaze from the couch to him. "Roy, I apologize for not taking your back while at the Watchtower-"

He frowns, "You could've taken my back."

I frown back at him, "Perhaps, but I would have risked my job."

"So risk it."

"I cannot do that Roy."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because it is my job. Because it is what supplies me with the money I need to survive and help pay for all of my gear, as well as distribute to the family members I have that are not so fortunate as to have a job such as my own. Because to leave my job in such a manner, with tourists snapping photographs, would completely obliterate my reputation and I need that reputation to do my job as an Atlantean ambassador, not to mention it would bring up the complaints and comments that came up after the Gulf Disaster." I straighten up, "That is why I could not risk it. There are people out there who look up to my because I am the only person, the only hero, who is like they could be in a few years time, or were. I cannot…harm them in such a way."

"So you didn't act because of your _fans_?"

"I didn't act because: firstly, having a temper tantrum would hardly prove that I was ready to be a full-fledged hero; secondly, yes, because of my fans; thirdly, because I need my job; and fourthly, because I am comfortable at the moment where I am in my job."

"You can't be serious."

"I am very serious." I let my expression soften and move forward, my hands out to him in a peaceful gesture, "This is your path now, and that is wonderful, but it is not my path now."

He falls silent for a moment, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, ignoring my attempts at peacemaking.

"Robin, Kid Flash, Superboy, Miss Martian, and myself are to be a part of a team. Covert operations."

His eyebrows rise dramatically and his eyes lift to look at me sharply, "You're actually buying that shit? A Junior Justice League? That's a joke, Kalla."

I feel my shoulders stiffen. I pull my hands back to place them on my hips and retort, "To you, perhaps. "

"You shouldn't be there with them." He leans forward, an incredulous glare on his face, "You really think that being a part of the Junior Justice League is gonna make them respect you?"

I twitch, and return his glare, "I told you why I did not join you."

"I know you, Kalla. You're fucking sick of being thought of as some defenceless little girl." I cross my arms and cock a hip in irritation, but he barely registers my change in stance as he continues, "You've taken that shit for years and you don't want to take it anymore."

I purse my lips, "Roy, this is an opportunity."

"No, it's a joke. You're playing right into their hands."

I fall silent, my teeth tightly clamped together so that I do not say something I will regret.

"You can't even admit it," he scoffs. "Is that what you want? To play right into their hands? To keep on letting people think that you slept your way to-"

I feel my eyes flash at the word 'slept' and abruptly I turn, my hands clenching into fists as I stride for the door.

"Where are you going?" he questions sharply.

I whip around, "I am leaving. If you cannot respect my decision and insist on insulting me every step of the way then I will not stay here. I will take a lot, I _have_ taken a lot," I am going to regret saying that, I already do, "but I will not take you continually insulting my decision and trying to make me agree with you 100 percent by _belittling me._"

"I'm not belittl-"

"You are placing next to no value on my ability to think independently, and even though you know how I feel about being called a defenceless little girl and someone who slept her way to the top, you keep on suggesting that that is what I want to be known as. That that is who I want to be. I do not have to listen to this. I should not have to."

He frowns, crossing his arms, "Fine, whatever, I'm sorry."

"Your sincerity is appreciated," I comment dryly. "Call me when you figure out how to talk without insulting me."

I pause at the door, "Our HQ is The Cave by the way. Mount Justice, Rhode Island. You are free to visit once you adjust your attitude towards me."

He doesn't say anything as I leave.

Undoubtedly, he will stew for awhile. I know I will.

* * *

**A/N: **La'gaan, I figure, especially when he was like…12, was that kid who loved action and adventure and whose ultimate goal was to be _the _Action Hero. He thought he was incredibly smooth and suave but wasn't, at all. Topo is just that adorable kid who gets completely enthralled by tales of adventure and action but would never, ever, want to be in the middle of one. My headcanon is that they're best friends and co-presidents of the Aqualass Fanclub.

You guys are fantastically amazingly awesome. When I get stuck I start rereading your reviews and get all happy and encouraged to continue this monster of a story so thank-you for that, because currently my motivation for writing is _low_ thanks to RL.

_I've been playing around with writing a oneshot about one of my OC minor characters, probably Joa or Daphne-turned-Gina. Interested?_

**Thanks!**


	13. Kalladura'ham 9

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice #3: Breaking Loose! and Young Justice #4: By Hook or By Web._

_**EDIT: Because I wrote the wrong months omg.**  
_

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, mention of rape and child soldiers, murder**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Be not ashamed of mistakes and thus make them crimes."_

Confucious

* * *

**9**

**Star City, California : July 9, 2010 – 10:51 PDT**

I am already regretting my words.

Certainly, I am still angry with Roy, but I do wish that I would have…I don't know…acknowledged the validity of his points? Whatever his points were...that I was an idiot? A traitor? A bad friend?

Ugh, I do not wish to say that those points have weight behind them. Perhaps they do? Perhaps I am a bad friend for not supporting him in this? Friends do not have to agree on everything though, and if I do not care for myself and acknowledge and support my own capabilities then how will I have the presence of mind to be a good friend in the first place?

I may be wrong. Likely, I am overanalyzing this, as usual.

I pull my knees up to my chest, throwing my posture to the wayside as I wrap my arms around my knees and dig my bare feet into the sand. I look over my knees and at the ocean, watching as the beach goers wade in the water, some kids playing, some others sunbathing in the morning light, some others diving. I suppose I look a tad out of place, wearing a blue jacket with the collar covering most of my neck and my hands tucked in the sleeves. Then there are my legs, covered by a pair of flared jeans with frayed bottoms that nearly hide my bare feet entirely. Most on the beach are wearing swimsuits, or at least t-shirts. Me though, I wear the jacket to hide my gills and artificial channels, and the jeans because we do not have denim in Atlantis so I like to wear it when I can, they can usually pull attention away from my webbed toes, and I need to wear something to cover my Atlantean shorts. I only really wear my Atlantean shorts as a back-up just in case I need to be Aqualass and have no time to change. I found out the hard way that it sucks to swim in denim, and in surface-world undergarments. Hence, the shorts, and the Atlantean tank top underneath my jacket.

I sigh. I do not know what to do about Roy. I would ask my matim but I hate asking for help. Besides, she is in Atlantis at the moment and I planned on spending the day on the surface. With Roy. If I return to Atlantis Matim will know that something is wrong and she will ask what, then ask if she can help, and offer advice and that may as well be asking for help. I can handle this by myself, surely.

Ugh.

The one time I try to be spontaneous because I know that Roy likes spontaneity more than myself, and I wind up sitting alone on a beach.

Fantastic.

Perhaps I should patrol. I know that Oliver – Green Arrow that is – will not mind. Roy may.

Ugh. Maybe I should see a film. I wonder what is playing.

I twitch as my cell vibrates. I answer it, keeping the sigh from my voice, "Hello?"

::: Bored? ::: Robin questions.

"Perhaps."

::: Wanna zeta to Central? :::

"I suppose I could."

::: Cool. Meet us at Café Sugar. :::

He hangs up. I return the phone to my pocket and pause for a moment before gathering the energy and wits needed to stand. I shove my sandals back on then head off the beach. Thirty minutes later I walk into Central City's Café Sugar and head to the table claimed by Robin in his usual sunglasses, hoodie and jeans, and Kid Flash AKA Wally in his usual brightly coloured shirts.

"Visiting Roy?" Robin questions as I sit with my glass of lemon water.

"Yes," I answer.

Wally frowns, "Dude walked out pretty pissed."

"He _is_ Roy," I point out, unwilling to disclose the details of my conversation with Roy. At least, not with Wally and Robin.

The boys drop the subject. Robin perches on his chair and slides a photograph of a thirty-something women across the table. Wally and I stare at it for a moment before Wally questions, "So why am I looking at a picture of…?"

"Gonzalez," says Robin. "Selena Gonzalez."

"And we care why? Other than the fact that she's a hottie?"

"Kid," I frown. He shrugs. I cross my arms.

"She's here in Central City and being targeted for a hit. There's a reason," Robin explains, "I just don't know what yet, but I think I found something that might be related to her."

"Related?" I question.

"Looking through Batman's files I've found that there have been a few targets, seemingly unrelated, but I've cross-referenced tons of data and I think I found a pattern."

"Looking through?" Wally repeats, his eyebrows rising sharply. "You mean you _hacked_ Batman's files?!"

I shut my eyes, listening for any reactions from Wally's exclamation that we will have to deal with.

Nothing.

Good, no one was paying attention to him. Lucky.

"Anyway…" continues Robin. "I think this CEO might be next. All of the other hits have been made to look like accidents. Random muggings gone wrong…things like that. Anyway, I figured we could look into it."

"And this was brought to your attention in the first place how?" I inquire.

"I've been looking into Cadmus the last couple of days. Corporate holdings, who they do business with, and I noticed a few people they've done business with have seem to meet untimely accidents."

"You want us to look into this on a _hunch_ that someone _might_ have put out a hit on the CEO of this company?" Wally questions. He grins, "Cool!"

"Interesting," I admit. "But what about the other two, Superboy and Miss Martian?"

"We don't want to get them in trouble before The Team even gets going, do we?" challenges Robin. "Besides, if you think about it, we haven't even had a real outing as a team yet."

I think Cadmus counts. It wasn't a particularly good mission, or, outing, but it was one.

"Let's do it!" Wally declares. "C'mon Aqualass, it'll be fun."

"Think of it as a training session," offers Robin. "We haven't even had one of those as a team yet."

Technically, we've only been a team for a matter of hours so that isn't surprising.

"Then why are Superboy and Miss Martian not here?" I question. I know that Miss Martian wants to be a superhero, if she didn't then why would she come to Earth and take the Earth alias Miss Martian? Superboy seems to…still be debating that, still stuck in the idea that the G-Gnomes gave him that he has to be a superhero and still struggling with the concept that he can in fact choose what he wants to do. I question, "They are a part of our team, are they not?"

"Yeah, but we've been around longer than they have," Robin argues, "and we haven't had much interaction with each other. We're always doing our own crimefighting thing with our own partners. I figured it could be a chance for us to kind of clear the cobwebs before we get into full team mode."

"Cobwebs?" scoffs Wally. "You've been hanging out in dark caves way too much."

"They are still a part of our team," I maintain.

"Well I'm in," says Wally. "You think Selena likes younger guys?"

"She may be the target of a hit, Kid. Even if she were interested in younger guys that will not be what her attention is focused on when her life is in jeopardy. Attempting to flirt with her, "hitting" on her - such an odd phrase - will not help you, I can assure you of that."

"You know I'm _smooth_, sweetheart."

Something within me, perhaps the leftover irritation from my conversation with Roy, twinges at the so-called 'pet name,' oh so similar to 'Aqualicious,' to the comments made regarding my body by everyone from spectators to supervillains, to what I just know is going to come from some sick villain along the lines of 'making you wet?'

"You are expected to act in a professional manner, Kid Flash," I point out with a tone more caustic than normal.

"Don't worry, I'll be professional," he grins, either completely missing my tone or ignoring it.

I eye him dubiously. Deciding that I do not wish to get into another fight today I turn to Robin, "What makes you think all these random muggings and accidents are related, and how do we know that they are all hits put out on these people?"

"Yeah, who do you think is behind all this?" asks Wally.

"Behind it?" repeats Robin. "Hard to tell. Could be Cadmus but none of the evidence points to them, but who do I _think_ was hired to do the job on Selena Gonzalez? The League of Shadows."

The League of Shadows…it sounds familiar. Is it not a surface-world group similar to Eris' Children? Hired hitpeople?

"Really?" Wally exclaims.

"Yeah, I think these 'accidents' were executed by them," Robin confirms.

"Who are the League of Shadows?" I question.

"What? You haven't heard of the League of Shadows?" Wally gapes at me. "Where've you been living? Under a rock or something?"

I raise an eyebrow, "Underwater, actually."

Wally blinks, "Oh. Right."

"The League of Shadows is a deadly organization with their hands in all sorts of dirty business. Killing is only part of their business," explains Robin.

Alright, so they are a group like Eris' Children, simply with a broader reach.

"Allegedly, nothing ever seems to get proven against those guys," adds Wally.

A bit like some of the larger, more well-organized Siren groups. A lot like the vampiric criminals, actually.

I lean forward, "So…to reiterate, you want the three of us to look into what may or may not be a sanctioned assassination attempt against this CEO, which would be carried out by a covert organization called the League of Shadows, and do so without the help of our teammates and without authorization from Batman or the rest of the League."

"Yeah, pretty much," Robin shrugs.

"C'mon, what are we waiting for?" exclaims Wally.

This is a bad idea. This is a _really_ bad idea.

But they'll go ahead with it no matter what I decide.

I sigh, "Very well."

* * *

**Outside Farano Enterprises, Central City, Missouri : July 9, 2010 – 19:45 CDT**

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

_Crinkle._

_Crunch._

"Why is she still at work? Everyone else went home hours ago," comments Kid Flash.

_Crunchcrunchcrunch._

"Could you _not_ chew so loud?" requests Robin.

I huff, "At this point I wish he would feed with a filter system much as a humpback whale would. It would be less nauseating to hear, and watch."

"Haha," Kid Flash snorts. He swallows, "Very funny."

Not a joke.

Robin sounds similarly irritated, "Could you just keep it down?"

"Which one? My voice or my chewing?"

"Both!"

"I can't help it!" he protests. "I'm bored and I need to eat! We've been sitting here for hours! Do you know how hard that is for me to do? She's been in that building all day. All of the employees have gone home. She's all alone. If they were going after her don't you think they would have done it by now?"

"No," says Robin tersely.

"How do you know that Einstein?"

"Because they're doing it right now."

I straighten up immediately and scan the building for movement.

"I don't see anything-"

"There," I point, cutting off Kid Flash. "Below the window, movement."

Some sort of spider-like moving man. Interesting.

"Alright, we-"

Kid Flash zips off before I can get a third word out.

I turn to Robin, "Robin, we sh-"

And he's gone. Laughing.

Of course.

I huff, "This is not team building."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about them little girl."

I stiffen immediately, my stomach clenching, and I whirl around to find a man built like a refrigerator wearing a trenchcoat standing behind me. He has a giant hook in place of his right hand. White, mid-thirties, blonde.

He smirks, "In a few moments you won't have a team to worry about."

He lunges forward with his hook hand. I dodge then leap to avoid a second swipe, "_Who_ are you?" I land a few feet to his right as he begins to try and pull his hook out of the building, "Are you with the League of Shadows?"

"What kind of a question is that?" laughs Hook-Man. "Even if I was I wouldn't admit it to you!" He spins abruptly and sends his left fist up into my jaw before I can move. "Doesn't matter one way or the other," he says as I pick myself off the ground and move forward, "because you," he blocks my kick with his arm and wrenches his hook out of the building, sending it colliding with my body. It rushes across my shirt, collides with my jaw and scrapes across my face. I register hitting the ground, my head cracking against it, and then nothing.

…

"…_need…out…"_

"_Aqua…of it…"_

Son of a…ow. I wince and blink open my eyes. I grimace and promptly realise that not only am I upside down but there is a hand on my thigh that is not my own and my arms are pinned to my side thanks to some sort of sticky…stuff.

"Whe-where am I?" I question immediately, my eyes widening.

"You're awake?" says Robin. "Good. But we've got some bad news."

"And even worse news," says Kid Flash.

The spider man restraining Gonzalez laughs, "So you threw junior grade good guys thought you could stop us?"

Gonzalez tugs at the spider man's arms, "Please…let me go…"

Hook-Man laughs, "Yeah, what were you thinking? This is Hook and the Black Spider you got here! We're good at what we do, we're professionals."

"Yeah," says Kid Flash, "professional hitmen for the League of Shadows sent to kill an innocent woman!"

"I wouldn't go throwing around names of deadly groups like that if you know what's good for you, kid," warns Black Spider.

"Why are you after her?" questions Robin as I begin to shift, trying to get out of the sticky stuff enough to reach a water-bearer. "Why is Selena Gonzalez being targeted?"

"You're not in any position to ask questions. But we are," says Black Spider. "How did you know we'd be here?"

"He asked you a question," growls Hook, raising his hook hand dangerously close to my face.

"Like you, we do not have to answer any questions," I retort, frowning.

"Yeah," relents Hook, "but you're going to 'cause you screwed up and got caught. Face it, you guys never even had a chance against us."

"What?" laughs Robin. "We came here to stop you from hurting her! We did that!"

Hook scoffs, "Ha! Are you kidding me? You stopped us, yeah, for like _five_ _minutes!_ You see what's happening here, right? You lost!"

"You didn't take my utility belt," says Robin and I can feel his hand brushing across my thigh as he sneaks it out of his glove to grab his belt.

"Wait, your what now?"

"You never took my utility belt away," smirks Robin. "You know, that thing that lets us escape."

His hand clenches.

"What is he talking abo-"

Robin slices through the restraints, the webbing, and I snap my arms and legs out, flipping over and ripping through the rest of the webbing with my strength. I land and leap up from the floor immediately.

"Dude, have I ever told you how much I love that belt?" gushes Kid Flash.

Robin laughs in response as he kicks Hook across the face, "What can I say? It's the one accessory that goes with everything!"

Hook hits the ground and Black Spider swears, "Fuck! They're free!"

"Let's get out of here," exclaims Hook, "these kids have wasted too much of our time anyway!" He gets to his feet as Black Spider shoots webbing at us. Hook blasts his hook hand through the wall, "Let's put some space between us and them!"

Shit. I need to get to Hook.

I turn to Kid Flash, "We need a-"

He zips off, again, before I get a chance to finish my sentence. Robin vanishes, laughing.

I sigh, turning back to Black Spider. Were Kid Flash and Robin completely unaware of the fact that this is not a strategy that has ever worked before?

Kid Flash heads straight for, of all people, Hook. Fucking Hook. Because _Kid Flash_ is tailor-made to take on _Hook._

No. No he isn't. If we want to beat these guys Kid Flash needs to take on the more agile enemy, AKA, Black Spider, and that is only if we get Gonzalez out of here, which she isn't. Robin needs to draw attention away from Kid Flash so Kid Flash can grab Gonzalez. I'll deal with Hook then Robin can deal with Black Spider and Kid Flash can get out of here. I need more water first though.

I scan the room, trying to recall the blueprints Robin had called up to help me pinpoint each source of water, each pipe, each bathroom, prior to staking out Farano Enterprises. We are not over a bathroom right now but…there is a water cooler.

I dart forward, pulling out my water-bearers and darting on the opposite side of the room from Black Spider. I wrench the water from the water cooler and slam it into the back of Hook's hand, keeping him from slamming his hook into Robin and Kid Flash who managed to get themselves restrained against the wall by Black Spider's webbing because of their "genius" plan. I make water-blades and slice them down the webbing, snapping as the boys get out, "We need to have a plan of attack if we want to save Gonzalez. One that involves _all_ of us."

Kid Flash tugs off the remaining webbing, "If you've got one, call it."

I have! No one has been listening to me though!

"Kid Flash, Gonzalez. Robin, a diversion," I order.

Robin leaps forward, throwing down some smokescreen pellets. Kid Flash darts straight for Gonzalez, picking her up and heading for the door. I slam the water straight for Black Spider and Hook, conveniently standing right next to one another, and send a surge of electricity through my water-bearers and into the water. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Kid Flash stopping at the door.

"What – take her and go!" I shout, glancing back at Kid Flash. "Get her to safety! She's the one they're after!"

"Not gonna happen! We tried that when we first got here and tangled with these guys! They kicked our cans all the way down the street and back! We're in this together!" Kid Flash exclaims. "I'm staying!"

For the love of…the only reason that did not succeed was because we did not have a plan!

"You guys done being mushy with each other?" shouts Robin, flying out of nowhere and promptly colliding with me, getting me out of the way of the hook flying towards me I had failed to notice thanks to _Kid Flash fucking distracting me. Why do I work with these people? None of them know how to work as a part of a team!_

_ARGH._

"Thanks," I say, rolling to my feet as Robin jumps to the side.

They may be good at working in pairs, especially with their mentors, but as a team they – no, _we_ – need a ton of work. I may have more knowledge in working as a team thanks to working in squads as a soldier, but I still do not know how to work with Kid Flash and Robin.

"Incoming!"

Hook's hook soars toward me again. I twist, dodging, then lash out with my hand, grabbing the chain as it whips past me. I pull it sharply, hoping to trip him up.

He goes with the pull, flipping, "Very clever, blondie, like no one's ever tried that move before."

His feet collide with my face and I taste dirt, quite literally.

I hit the ground, grimacing and spitting out the dirt as Kid Flash darts past me, again, "Did you see this coming?"

He slams into Hook and I roll to my feet, searching for Gonzalez. Kid Flash whips by me again, plucking up Gonzalez then setting her down and apologizing to her. I shoot forward as Robin does, shouting, "Kid Flash! Down!"

The explosive batarangs dislodge Hook from his path towards Kid Flash and he shoots up, bringing Gonzalez with him.

"This is getting us nowhere," complains Robin.

"Agreed," I say, albeit reluctantly. "Perhaps we need to steal away."

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen," says Black Spider, webbing the door shut.

"You guys interfered in something that had nothing to do with you, and now you're going to pay for it!" Hook shouts, once again shooting his hook out but in completely the wrong direction.

"With your lives!" adds Black Spider, webbing the hook and sending it in a curve towards us.

Fine then, I'll make an exit.

I whip up the water that fell on the ground, and the leftover water from the water cooler then form it into maces. Immediately, I slam the maces down on the ground, capturing the hook in the same movement and slamming it between my maces and the ground. The floor crumbles and gives way beneath me. I plummet then dart forward for the nearest door immediately as Robin drops down behind me.

"We need to find the quickest way out of this building," says Robin.

"They will not stop looking for Gonzalez outside of this building," I argue, "easier to pick us off. We need to go stealth if we want to turn the tables on them and end this."

"What do you have in mi – shit!" Kid Flash shouts as Hook's hook shoots up then back down, straight through the ceiling.

"Disperse. Hide and wait for my signal," I determine, darting to the side through an open door. I have no idea what I am doing at this point. Just…waiting until a plan hits me I suppose.

Wait. This room…yes we're over a bathroom. Okay, now I have a plan.

I sense rather than see Robin drop down beside me. He questions softly, "How do you want to approach this?"

I look past the doorway to Hook and Black Spider, "I can take Hook, but Black Spider is fast and can strike multiple targets from a distance with his webbing. Can you and Kid Flash take him out?"

"On it," Robin says. "Give me five seconds then make your move."

I sense him leave, vanishing into the shadows. I wait. Five. Four. Three. Two.

Sharply, I whip out from the room and step into the room Hook and Black Spider are in, withdrawing dual water-blades that make my artificial channels glow, "Gentlemen, hold."

Hook snorts, "Get a load of the human glow stick."

"End this now," says Black Spider impatiently. "Give us the girl."

I get into a defensive stance, "There are a number of girls in the area, myself included. I would recommend specificity but that will not change my response from a 'no'."

"Argh!" Black Spider huffs. "What are you even going to do? I checked this floor, there aren't any water coolers around for you to pull your water tricks with."

"You are correct," I smirk, moving my water-bearers to point at the floor, sensing the water surging through pipes and pulling it up toward me, "however, we are standing directly over a bathroom."

Hook blanches, "Oh no."

I snap my arms up and water follows, shooting straight through the floor, sending wood and tile soaring through the air as the water engulfs Hook and sends him hurtling straight into and through the ceiling. I twist my hands, splitting the water in half and slamming it down onto Hook's back, sending him plummeting back through the ceiling and onto the floor as Kid Flash distracts Black Spider and Robin makes his web-gauntlets explode, effectively trapping Black Spider in his own webbing.

"Dude…nice," grins Kid Flash as he comes to a stop between Robin and I.

It worked. Excellent.

"Where's the girl?" asks Robin.

…oh.

I look straight at Kid Flash. His head whips around and I feel the blood draining from my face as I turn and begin searching for her.

How could I have forgotten to put someone on watch duty? That just…that was terrible! Annex would not have done that.

I was so occupied with trying to get Kid Flash and Robin and myself working together effectively, and then beating up Hook that I forgot about the whole point of our mission! That was horrendous!

Argh!

I am a terrible soldier.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbour, Rhode Island – July 10, 2010 : 22:12 EDT**

"We looked everywhere for her," says Kid Flash, still trying to remain upbeat even after all of the fruitless searching we did, "she was pretty scared. She probably just ran and is hiding out somewhere."

I sigh, "We checked her premises and those of her family. She is nowhere to be found."

"Listen," says Robin, pulling up the national news.

I can feel my gut dropping as the broadcaster speaks, ::: Police say it is too early to tell if the disappearance of Farano Enterprises CEO Selena Gonzalez is in anyway connected to what happened at their corporate headquarters last night, although it is a good possibility as the two men captured on the premises and allegedly responsible for all the property damage have themselves escaped custody as they were being transported to a maximum holding facility. :::

Oh, obviously! That was so…how…

"How could I have not seen it?!" exclaims Robin.

I hang my hands off my shoulders, shaking my head, "When we were in the building Black Spider said 'the minute you get outside we'll know where you are.'"

"They had others outside," finishes Robin. "They're the League of Shadows, of _course_ they had others outside! We just never saw them! But they were there!"

"So, you mean Selena is…" Kid Flash trails off.

I nod. She's dead, for certain.

Our heads fall.

I straighten up first, squaring my shoulders, and press my hands firmly on their shoulders, "We can learn from this. For now, we must rest." I let my hands fall and nod to Kid Flash, "And you would likely like some food."

He quirks a half smile, "I guess."

"If you wish, you may remain here for the night, remember, we do have rooms here."

Robin shakes his head, "Can't. Bats."

"Understood," I nod.

Robin darts through the zeta-beam teleporter tube. I look at Kid Flash, "I will be up for another couple hours, just so you know."

He raises an eyebrow, watching as I walk past him, "Why?"

"I am a soldier of Atlantis and in my missions there I have lost people," I explain, turning around. "I know what it is like."

"You think I don't?"

"I know that you are not a soldier, but I do not know if you have lost someone before. I am merely making you aware that I am available, if you wish to talk about it, or anything else."

He looks startled. Sharply, he nods, "Yeah, okay, yeah. Cool. Uh…couple hours?"

"Pardon?"

"Why are you staying up for a couple hours?"

"I am required to submit a report after each mission I undergo as either Aqualass or a soldier."

"Seriously?"

"Your position as Kid Flash is a volunteer one. My position as Aqualass, and my work as a soldier, is one I am paid for. It is my job and includes reports."

"I didn't know that."

"Few do. We do not publicize it to the surface-world. My King and myself are well aware of the surface-world's opinions on soldiers of my age, and female soldiers in general. As well as their treatment."

"Treatment?"

I shake my head, not wishing to get into a discussion of rape in the military or drafted child soldiers on the surface-world, "I…am not fond of it."

His brow furrows, "Wait, you're talking about the military rape stuff, aren't you?"

I clench my jaw and nod, "That is a threat I was made aware of when I began my training, both in regards to being a soldier and a superheroine, yes. You should sleep, or you will be quite exhausted tomorrow."

I stride out of the room, ending the conversation that I did not wish to occur in the first place.

Kid Flash heads home but I remain in the Cave, grabbing a snack then turning to head to the pool with my Atlantean tablet to write up my report. I do not wish to be in the room when Annex reads it and finds out that it was my plan that resulted in Gonzalez being murdered. Actually, I would prefer to not write the report and contemplate the situation, if at all possible.

"Where did you go?"

I stop and glance at Superboy. I lick my lips and explain, turning fully to face him, taking advantage of the opportunity, "I was on a mission. I did not mean to wake you, my apologies."

He shrugs, "What mission?"

"It is irrelevant at this point. It was a failure, but I will learn from the mistakes made."

Hopefully. I do not wish to be the cause of another death.

He looks uncomfortable.

"Was there something else?" I inquire.

He shrugs, "Pansy said she'd text me. She hasn't yet."

"Oh. She should not have made that promise. She got in trouble for texting me long-distance, the bill was quite large I am told. I doubt her parents would let her. I am sorry she told you that, she likely did not recall what her parents would think of that. We communicate by email instead. You could do the same, if you wish."

"I…don't have email."

"We can easily get you one," I say, flashing what I hope is an encouraging smile that does not give away the fact that I would prefer to just write my report then go to sleep. I am getting tired.

He shrugs.

"Come," I urge and turn to head to the main room, the room we will likely be training in, and briefed in, the room the zeta-beam is in. I pull up a large screen and keyboard then pull up a secured browser and explain as I pull up Angelia Graphikos' email, "This is the email I use for my personal usage. The company is an Atlantean one so their surface-tech can occasionally not be as effective as surface-world company's tech is, but it is generally more advanced. It is merely the anomalies that arise from not being surrounded by water and such that occasionally cause problems. My work email is connected to this one – that is, my email for the Atlantean Military and my time as Aqualass. So anything I get from that email is forwarded to my personal email." I log out and pull up uMail, "This is a popular email service. Pansy uses it so it may be best to start with this one, as it is a surface-world company and I rather doubt you will spend much time in Atlantis. She will be able to answer any questions you have about it, I am certain. Here is the sign-up screen…" I pull back and gesture for Superboy to move forward, "you can sign-up here."

"It wants my name."

"Do not put in Superboy, but you may put in anything else you wish. They do not check it. Perhaps your favourite name thus far? Or the ubiquitous John Doe."

"That's used for people who are unidentified."

"You are Superboy, but can still use it if you wish."

He shrugs and types in 'Jon Doe.' He skips the areas not needed, puts in Washington D.C. as his city, then stops at the creation of his email address.

"You can make that anything you want. Mine is knightlight, for example. Tula's is aquamirage, Garth's is g_boy. We have had them for a few years."

"Superboy?" he questions.

"Sure."

He types in 'superboy' and frowns as it says that the email was taken.

"Add in a number."

With a few more tries he eventually ends up with superboy_13. He sets his password, then with some minimal direction from myself adds in myself and Pansy as contacts and sends his first email to Pansy, with the declaration that he got an email and Aqua explained why the heck she wasn't texting him.

"I apologize, Superboy, but I really should get to work on this report," I say, holding up the tablet, trying not to think of Annex's reaction to the fact that my plan got a woman killed. "You should get some sleep."

"M'not tired. Don't think Kryptonians need much sleep," he says, not bothering to tell me to call him by a new name.

"I heard that there is a library in here. You could find a book that sounds interesting and read it," I suggest.

He looks at me, contemplative, then nods.

I turn and head for the pool. Before I dive in I hear him say, faintly, "Thanks."

Beneath the water, I smile.

My smile promptly vanishes when I start looking into Gonzalez's family and try to figure out a way to express my condolences without revealing that I am, in fact, Aqualass, and it was my fault that Selena died.

I have to stop thinking like that. I did not murder her. I may have made it easier for the murderers to kill her but I did not, physically, kill her myself.

That is what Annex would say, I know that much. Yet, I still do not wish to be in the room when he reads the report.

I sigh, make a note to edit the report when I wake up tomorrow, then zeta to Shayeris and sneak into my room without waking up my parents. It takes two hours of trying to get my mind to stop racing with the night's events, trying to figure out a way I could have _fixed it_, before I manage to fall asleep. Sometimes, valuing life is an irritant.

* * *

**A/N: **RL kicked my butt to the middle of the ocean without a life-raft or an Alantean and it was not fun. I'm sorry I took so long updating but, yeah, RL and work and gaaahhh so much work. Sorry.

Guest, I'm gonna have to say no. Yes, there are some physically attractive parts of Superboy that her hormone driven teenage self will acknowledge, but no, she's not crushing on him or anything. She considers him to be more of a…I want to say protégé but that isn't the correct word. Not really a little brother either. Just…someone she thinks she has to take responsibility for helping figure out this whole new world, because a) she's Kalla and she does that, and b) no one else really has taken the initiative to help him. He's someone who quite literally has no one, he's in a brand new place, he's gone through a traumatic experience, and he's angry and broody. Kalla knows how to deal with angry, broody people – see: Roy – and she knows about adapting to a whole new place – see: entering the military, then becoming Aqualass, plus there a ton of different cultures in Atlantis alone because it is, after all, a global nation – and she has experience with people who have gone through traumatic experiences – see: every person she's ever helped as Aqualass. Plus, she already has the whole 'older sister' thing going on with Robin (and to a lesser degree Kid Flash), and the 'idol/mentor' thing with La'gann and Topo so it isn't exactly a foreign position for her to be in. Thus, her concern for him, her appreciation of his situation, and a greater explanation for why she's annoyed with everyone else for not dealing with this and helping him.

That got long.


	14. Kalladura'ham 10

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 103: Happy Harbor._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, sexism  
**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Friendship that insists on agreement on all matters is not worth the name. Friendship to be real must ever sustain the weight of honest differences, however sharp they be."_

Mohandas K. Gandhi

* * *

**10**

**Sender: **glorigrrrl72  
**Date: **Sun, 11 July 2010 16:45:12 -0400  
**From: **Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization: **u-Mail  
**To: **knightlight  
**Subject: **You know about this?

That girl in Dakota City, I finally found a decent photo of her. Linked to here.

You've gotta check her out. I can't tell if she has powers or if it's all some seriously awesome tech. Also, the guy with the cape looks like he has a stick up his ass. You'd probably get along great. ;D I jest, I luv ya 5ever.

;P

oOoOo

**Dakota City, Minnesota : July 13, 2010 – 21:12 CDT  
**

"Really? You seriously better not be trying to do what I think you're trying to do," Rocket says, a hand on her hip, hovering a foot in the air.

I watch, ensuring that I do not have to intervene. Her mentor, Icon, seems to give her a lot of freedom. I haven't seen him with her once since getting here.

Gunshots break out in the store and I prepare to move forward. I see the flash of Rocket's force-field then a moment later the robbers are being cuffed to the door and Rocket is speaking to the employee. She flies off a moment later, an instant before the police show up. I follow Rocket, wondering when she'll finally realize that I am following her.

Someone screams. Rocket turns and heads toward the scream. I follow swiftly, waiting in the shadows on the rooftops as she intercepts a mugger, grabs him by the back of his jacket and flies up.

"Hey! Bitch!" one of the mugger's friends shouts, coming out of hiding and raising his gun to start shooting at Rocket. Idiot. His friend was being held by Rocket.

Rocket surrounds both herself and the mugger in one of her force-fields, shouting about the friend's idiocy, and I drop down behind the shooter. I pull out my water-bearers and press the end of one against the back of the shooter's head as I order, "Hands up and beside your head."

He freezes at the sensation of a piece of metal shaped like the barrel of a gun at the back of his skull. Slowly, he moves his hands up. I promptly pluck the gun out of his hand and hit a pressure point in the back of his shoulder, knocking him out almost immediately. He collapses in the alley and I promptly unload his weapon, crushing the ammo in my grip as Rocket descends, the man in her grasp smelling faintly of urine.

"No way…" Rocket breathes, pulling out another set of cuffs, staring at me as I freeze the unconscious man to the wall. He'll survive that.

"Rocket," I nod then move past her to the still trembling woman by the wall. I crouch next to her, "Ma'am, my name is Aqualass. Are you hurt?"

She shakes her head.

"Here's your bag," Rocket says walking over to us and crouching, holding the bag out to the woman.

She takes it gingerly.

"Is anything missing?" I question.

She hurriedly goes through it then shakes her head, "N-No."

"I can wait here with you until the police come, if you'd like. They will want to hear what happened from you," I explain.

"Th-thank you," she says hurriedly, staring at Rocket and myself. "I don't want to be a-"

"I will stay," I promise, squeezing her hand. She nods gratefully.

"Is Aquaman here too?" Rocket asks after a moment.

I shake my head, "No. He has other duties to attend to, and I wished to come here by myself."

"Oh. Um, _why_ are you here?"

"I have heard of your work," I say truthfully, standing. "You do well."

She opens her mouth. Then closes it. Then opens it again, "Omigod, okay, cool. Cool. I am just…you were my inspiration for, y'know, putting on the costume and punching assholes in the face."

My eyebrows shoot up. Quickly, I compose myself and smile at her, "I am honoured."

"Seriously, I…after that spill and the debacle with the misogynistic assholes trying to bring you down I sent you a letter through your fansite thing. The webmaster, glorigrrrl72 – I don't know if you know her – she said that you saw it."

I frown, trying to recall the letter. Occasionally Pansy did send me letters but I couldn't seem to recall any specific ones.

"What was your handle?" I question.

"Er…RockinR."

My eyes widen in recognition, "Yes, I do recall that letter, and I did appreciate it. Thank you."

Granted, it was texted to me, but I got the general gist of it, and saying that I appreciated it seemed to make Rocket happy so I certainly was not going to tell her that I got it texted to me in fragments.

Rocket grins, "Are the boys here?"

"I am afraid they are not, apologies."

"No! It's cool, I mean I would…but…no it's cool." She wrings her hands together then questions awkwardly, "You wanna patrol with me? I don't want to slow you down or anything but-"

I smile, "I would be more concerned with myself slowing you down, seeing as this is your city." I nod, "I would love to. Thank you for the offer, Rocket."

Her grin grows, if possible, even wider.

* * *

**Star City, California : July 17, 2010 – 23:12 PDT**

I rise from the ocean and dart across the dock, heading for the cargo containers as Kid Flash and Robin advance from land. I dart from container to container, keeping to the shadows and watching for Speedy.

"You again!" Brick, the villain of the night, shouts. "I'm startin' to get insulted Green Arrow's not messin' up my operation personally!"

Brick shoots and I dart forward, taking out a couple of Brick's lackeys as Speedy dodges the shots then shoots Brick's gun, making it explode and destroy his – admittedly – rather nice suit.

"Do you know what I pay for a suit in my size?!" Brick exclaims. "Scorch the earth boys."

Kid Flash darts across two of the lackeys, grabbing their weapons and flinging them to the ground as I leap onto a container. Robin explodes the weapons of the two other men with his birdarangs and I dart forward, whipping the still standing men into their own truck, putting them out of the fight for the moment.

I dart behind the containers then go around to reach Speedy as he darts across the tops of them, avoiding Brick chucking chunks of earth at him. As Speedy dodges the third boulder I slice it in half, making it merely whistle across my sides then crumble against the containers on either side of me. I straighten, looking at Speedy as he walks over to me, barely paying attention to what I say, "The Cave has everything the team will need."

I rather doubt that anything we do tonight will change his mind, but Kid Flash and Robin were…persuasive.

That is, if irritating me until I caved could be included under the umbrella of "persuasion".

"For covert missions," Robin adds, hopping down behind us, "you know, spy stuff."

Kid Flash flips onto the containers, grinning, "And wait until you see Superboy and Miss Martian! But I saw her first."

Speedy glances at me. I roll my eyes.

Abruptly, he darts to the side. I whirl around as Brick heaves another chunk of earth into the air. Promptly I bring my water-mace down upon it, shattering it into harmless pieces of rock as the boys dart out of the way, sending arrows and birdarangs at Brick.

When is Speedy going to finish this with the foam?

Brick laughs, the arrows and birdarangs doing nothing to him, "Heh-heh, tell Arrow he shouldn't send _boys_ to do a _man's_ job."

And I am completely ignored. As per usual.

"Dude, does the name Aqua_lass_ mean anything to you?" Kid Flash retorts, flinging an arm over my shoulders, likely merely to emphasize my presence.

I exhale heavily, having dealt with similar situations before.

"Heh-heh shouldn't send a _girl _to do a _boy's_ job," Brick retorts, obviously to goad Kid Flash on.

Kid Flash doesn't respond but does narrow his eyes and make to move forward. I elbow him in the gut. He promptly stops, wincing.

"Don't," I order.

Speedy aims with what I sincerely hope is a foam arrow.

Brick spreads his arms wide, sneering, "Go ahead."

Speedy promptly shoots Brick in the chest. The arrow sticks to his chest and then explodes, spreading out as foam.

"High-density polyurethane foam," says Kid Flash, grinning. "Nice."

Speedy turns away from Brick, stuck in the foam, and heads to where Robin is leaning against a container. Robin questions, grinning, "So Speedy, you in?"

"Pass," says Speedy. "I'm done letting Arrow and the League tell me what to do. I don't need a babysitter or a clubhouse hangout with the other kids. Your Junior Justice League is a joke, something to keep you busy and _in your place_."

I purse my lips and cross my arms, not at all attempting to hide the fact that I was irritated by Speedy's tone.

He walks away, growling, "I don't want any part of it."

What was with the attitude? He was just being rude now.

"Grouch," Kid Flash comments.

"It _is_ getting late," I say, turning to the boys. "We should be resting."

"Patrol," says Robin, hopping away and vanishing almost immediately.

"I hate it when he does that," Kid Flash sighs. "But y'know…we haven't gotten any missions yet. Think Speedy's on to something?"

"I believe we will be getting missions soon," I say, attempting to reassure him. "If you are concerned though we could inquire with Red Tornado."

Kid Flash nods, "Tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Cool, see you tomorrow then," he mock-salutes me then sprints off.

I glance at the ocean, then, in the direction Speedy left in.

I sprint away from the ocean.

It doesn't take long to reach Roy's current abode, sprinting as I am. I drop in through the window silently and wait on the couch.

Speedy comes in through the window a moment later and promptly rolls, pulling out an arrow and aiming it at my head. He swears when he realizes it's me, thankfully before he shot, and rises, "What the fuck Kalla? I could've killed you."

I just look at him.

He drops his bow and quiver on the coffee table along with his ridiculous hat. He moves to the kitchenette and grabs a water bottle from the fridge. I continue to stare at him.

He stops drinking and sets the bottle down, "What?"

I raise an eyebrow.

He pulls off his domino mask and tosses his gloves next to his bow. He glares at me, "What? Are you just gonna glare at me until I join your little club?"

"You know I would never do that," I retort.

He tosses his belt onto the growing pile, "Then what the hell are you here for?"

"I asked you to stop disrespecting my decision."

"I did!"

"Really?" my voice is rising and I have no doubt that it is partly because of my frustration with Roy and partly because of my frustration and doubts regarding this team, which he is beginning to unearth. "I witnessed plenty of disrespect moments ago."

"I wasn't disrespecting you."

"Patronizing then," I modify sharply.

"I wasn't even talking about you."

"I am a part of the so-called _Junior Justice League_, Roy! If you disrespect _them_ then you disrespect _me_."

Granted, we are not much of a team but…well it hurts when your best friend decides to laugh at your decision and mock it as if it is worthless.

"Fine, I'm sorry," he sighs.

I accept the apology, well aware that it is about as sincere as it will get from him verbally at this particular moment. He tends to apologize more by actions anyhow.

"But you broke into my apartment," he points out, glaring at me.

"Which I apologize for," I say, forcing my voice back to calm.

We stare at one another, neither one willing to look away in a moment of immaturity wherein to look away means to lose.

"You should've punched Brick for that comment," he adds.

"He was using it merely to goad Kid Flash. There was little point," I explain with a shrug. "And I trusted you would have the foam out at any moment."

Roy shrugs, accepting my decision.

I don't know if it is a good thing or a bad thing that I feel a surge of relief for that fact.

A heavy silence falls between us, neither one of us entirely certain what to do now.

I should probably be leaving. Take the zeta-beam teleporter tube to outside of Shayeris then swim all the way home to get some sleep. Then wake up early in the morning to do the same thing in reverse to get to the Cave.

Ugh.

"I do not wish to intrude, but do you mind if I stay here for the night?" I question abruptly because I just do not feel like doing all of that tonight and there is a perfectly good couch here. I may as well use it.

Roy raises an eyebrow at me, "Do you have any clothes?"

Oh. I had not thought that far ahead. Brilliant, Kalla, _brilliant._

My answer must have shown on my face because Roy shrugs, "I'll find a t-shirt or something for you. Don't you need to be at _the Cave_ or something though?"

I ignore the slight hint of mocking when he refers to the Cave. I do not feel like fighting again so I merely shake my head and explain, "I am staying with my parents in Shayeris at the moment, although I have a room at the Cave. I have not yet brought my belongings there beyond a couple civvies and a uniform though so…"

Roy quirks a smirk, "You're just being lazy, aren't you?"

"I am doing no such-"

"This is historic." His smirk grows and I purse my lips almost petulantly in response. He laughs, "You never do anything just because you want to be lazy."

I stand, raising an eyebrow, "I claim the shower first."

I dart past him. He shouts, "Whoa! Hey! No! My shower!"

I stop at the bathroom door and inwardly sigh because _he's right, _which sucks because I really want that shower. I turn abruptly, opening the door and gesturing, "Apologies. You are correct. It is your shower, you should go first."

"Yeah, I _should_," Roy says, striding into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

I head back to the couch, removing my water-pack and setting it on the floor before I begin adjusting the pillows on the couch to my liking.

I hear Roy enter the room and I turn, raising an eyebrow. I had not heard the water running. Or sensed it. Although he does seem to be half ready for a shower, wearing only his pants at the moment as he is. I can see the scars from when I slammed him against the ground during one of our joint missions when a wall nearly fell atop him. Instead, it fell atop me so he didn't wind up crushed. The scars have faded quite a bit in the past year.

"How do you do that?" he complains.

"I am afraid you will have to be more specific, my friend."

"That! Make me feel like an ass!"

What is he talking about?

I stare at him, utterly confused, "I am afraid I do not…"

Roy huffs, pointing to the bathroom, "Just go have a shower first."

"It is your bathroom-"

"That's what I'm talking about. You keep being so…nice and it makes me look awful in comparison."

I smirk, "You can be difficult, my friend, you must admit."

"I'm aware," he mutters.

Okay, now he is making me concerned. I feel the concern spreading to my face as I question, "Roy?"

"Just go have a shower so I don't feel like more of an ass."

He does know how to get me to do something, I can say that much. Threaten me with making someone feel bad if I do not do whatever they want me to do and I will be swayed more easily.

That will likely come back to bite me, I am certain.

I have the shower, fighting with myself to not use up all of the water, even if it is all cold water. I dry myself with the assistance of my magic. Not too much of course. I always try to leave my flesh damp when on the surface, for comfort. I give my uniform a quick cold soak, dry that, then pause at the door, frowning.

"Roy?" I call through the door, glancing warily at my reflection, catching sight of a couple battle scars alongside the stretch marks on my hips.

"What?" he responds after a moment.

"I have no clothing."

I would cover myself up with the towel in here, if only for Roy's sake, because I really have no real problem walking around naked, but the towel looks…frightening. I do not want it touching my flesh if I can help it.

When was the last time Roy washed it? He is wonderful with food and keeping his place acceptably clean, but apparently laundry is the one thing he ignores.

That is not a pleasant thought. Although, I cannot blame him. I tend to forget about laundry.

I hear Roy shuffling around and then he calls, "It's outside the door."

I open the door and promptly crouch, grabbing the clothing and pulling it on quickly. A plain grey t-shirt that is about five sizes too large so must be as massive on Roy, and a pair of red plaid boxers – please be washed – that are uncomfortably tight around my hips and butt. Roy doesn't have much of a butt to speak of. Then there's me. With fairly prominent butt and hips. It makes sharing clothing rather difficult.

I really should have thought this through. This was not one of my brighter ideas.

With my folded uniform in my arms I return to the living room and set my uniform down on the counter of the kitchenette. Roy looks at me for a moment. He raises an eyebrow, "Thought the shirt would be big."

"It is better than the boxers," I say, fighting the urge to tug on said article of clothing.

"I think I have some sweatpants," he offers, rising. "You can try them on when I'm in the shower."

He returns a moment later, tossing me a pair of sweatpants before retreating into the bathroom. It takes me pulling the sweatpants over my calves to confirm that they were not, in fact, made for curves. Still, they do fit better than the boxers. I wear the sweatpants and lie across the couch, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Roy to finish so that I can sleep.

Ten minutes later Roy returns, questioning as he dries his hair, "How'd Tula and Garth take the announcement that you were leaving?"

I am not surprised that he knows of that. He knows me far too well and could put together the clues easily enough.

I sigh and roll over, opting to succumb to my teenage immaturity as I complain, "They nearly guilt-tripped me."

Roy doesn't say anything. Concerned, I look up from my position sprawled across the couch with my head hanging off the edge. Roy looks uncomfortable.

I roll my eyes, "I did not mean that it was similar to what you did, Roy. Their attempt was unintentional, for the most part."

"And mine was intentional?" Roy retorts.

"Well," I gesture lamely with my hands, "it _was_."

Roy sighs and tosses the towel back into the bathroom. As he comes out I sigh, my head hanging off the edge of the couch, "Tula still is unaware of my…" I gesture with my hands, trying to convey the word without actually _saying_ it. I give up and set my hands down so that one is squished between my side and the back of the couch and the other is hanging off the front, "It makes her unintentional guilt-trip that much more effective."

"What the hell is-" Roy makes random gestures with his hands.

"It was meant to be a sign for 'feelings'," I explain. "The romantic ones."

"You want to jump her bones."

"I would not put it so crudely."

"You want to jump her bones," he repeats.

I press my face into the couch cushions and succumb to my selfish want to make an over-dramatic groan.

"Shit, you've got it bad for her don't you?" Roy comments.

I raise my head, a smile spreading across my face, "She is kind, talented, skilled in battle and in sorcery, her eyes remind me of the sky-"

Roy groans, "Please don't start spouting poetry."

"She knows poetry too," I say, ignoring his groaning and continuing, "and when she recites it it is as if-"

Roy promptly leaps over the coffee table and presses his knee against my back, inadvertently pressing my face against the cushions again, "You're just doing this on purpose now."

I may be doing this partly to annoy him, as I am well aware of how awkward he gets whenever I start talking about Tula.

So, he's right, I am doing it on purpose. However, the fact that I can do it without him threatening to kick me out and seriously meaning it encourages the idea that our tiff over the Junior Justice League is good and done. Even if his issue with the concept is not entirely settled at least we can still function as friends.

I flip over, because Roy is nowhere near strong enough to hold me down, and smirk, "Do not lie, Roy. You would find it attractive when the girl you held affections for recited poetry for you. Even simply if the poems are to help her study for her next exam."

He responds by turning around and sitting on my stomach. He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table and picks up the television remote.

"I am not a couch, Roy," I comment. "Do you sit on everyone that comes into your apartment?"

"Just the Atlanteans." He pauses, thinking on that statement for a moment, then adds, "And KF."

"I shall have to warn my King," I comment drily.

Roy snorts.

**July 18, 2010 – 10:18 PDT**

Someone is poking my butt. And for some reason I smell feet. And hear…a broadcaster?

Warily, not entirely certain I wish to see what is going on, I crack open an eye and promptly find myself staring at the bottom of a pale man's foot while the morning news plays softly on the television.

I frown and, trying not to move the foot, lift my head and look past my hip and curled legs to find Roy sprawled across the opposite side of the couch and encroaching on my territory. One of his feet is resting on my shoulder and the other is pressing against my butt. Apparently he is trying to kick me right off the edge of the couch.

Well.

I turn my head slightly to try and catch a glimpse of the clock on the microwave.

Upon seeing the blue numbers on the screen I curse mentally and barely manage to restrain myself from kicking Roy's feet right off me. Gingerly, so as not to wake him, I shimmy up the couch, getting halfway up the couch arm before Roy's foot resting on me twitches sharply and manages to kick me right in the chest.

I yelp and tumble backwards off my precarious position, landing on my back on the floor with my legs sticking up against the couch. I hear Roy shoot up immediately and promptly yelp as he, in all likelihood, went to grab his bow and, not being in his bedroom, missed, and fell off the couch.

I roll onto my hands and knees and turn to shoot a disgruntled look at Roy, "Why did you fall asleep on the couch?"

He pushes himself up from his faceplant on the floor and retorts, "Like I _planned_ this?"

I stand, questioning as I fix my shirt, which has somehow turned completely around on me, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine," he says, standing and shooting a glare at the coffee table.

"Apologies, but I need to go to the Cave. I am already late," I explain, grabbing my uniform and darting to the bathroom. I have a cold shower to wet my skin again, change swiftly, then scurry out of the bathroom while pulling on my belt.

"Egg," Roy says, handing me a plate with a hardboiled egg from the fridge atop a piece of toast.

I take the food gratefully, "Thank you my friend. Apologies, I should have-"

"You've been having a weird couple of weeks, you're allowed to slack off once in awhile y'know," he says, grabbing my waterpack and bearers as I nearly inhale the breakfast.

I gulp down the toast and move to the sink to wash the plate.

"I can-" he offers, grabbing the plate out of my hands.

"You are fantastic, thank you Roy," I say quickly, darting around him to pluck my pack and bearers from the counter then grab the folded sweatpants, boxers, and t-shirt.

He stares at me. He looks surprised, "…thanks."

"I will wash these then return them to you," I add, holding up the folded clothing.

"You don't have-"

"No, I don't," I agree.

Roy stares at me.

"I will speak to you later, my friend," I say then promptly hop out of his window.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : July 18, 2010 – 10:41 EDT**

/ Recognized, Aqualass B02. /

I enter the main room, which I am certain will be the main training room, and raise a single eyebrow at the lack of people in it. I had intended on catching REd Tornado in the morning...I assumed Kid Flash would do the same. Perhaps I should not have assumed.

I dart down the hallway and promptly head to the living quarters. I swiftly enter my Spartan room and deposit Roy's clothes at the foot of my bed. As quickly as possible I grab my civvies from the closet so that I do not have to wear my uniform two days in a row and switch them with my uniform after removing my waterpack. I hop into the sandals resting at the side of my bed and barely glance out the window before striding out of the room with my waterpack and bearers in my grip.

I bypass the rest of the rooms, cut through the TV room, pause momentarily to wonder where Superboy and Miss Martian are, then head past the infirmary to where the armoury apparently is, according to the blueprints I managed to get Annex to send me.

Embarrassingly, I squeak when I enter the armoury. Literally. A noise exited my mouth that was neither a word nor an exclamation.

Most of the weapons that are not League are Atlantean ones. There are spears, and swords, and a bladed shield that I dearly wish to own one day. There is a collection of finely engraved daggers. There is a blade modeled after an ancient design with the golden wings of Nike at its hilt. Gilded corals decorate one of the shields. The faces of Gorgons stare at me, threatening to turn me to stone alongside the ethereal, hypnotizing eyes of the Sirens painted crudely on the side of the barrel of a gun. One soldier's 'fuck you' after an encounter with the Sirens, no doubt.

I could spend a very long time in this place.

"Oh! I thought someone was here."

I turn slightly, smiling at Miss Martian. She is, like myself, in civvies. A skirt and cardigan set.

"Morning, Miss Martian," I greet. "My apologies, I meant to be here earlier to speak with the team."

"Well, it's just Superboy and I here right now so…"

Note to self, do not assume that others rise and work as early as you do.

"Is Red Tornado around?" I question.

"No. He was supposed to be but he got held up," Miss Martian explains. "Why?"

"I wished to inquire about the possibility of a mission. I know that Robin and Kid Flash are getting anxious."

Roy's and Kid Flash's comments, admittedly, had gotten to me. They are right, we have not had any real missions yet and that does not bode well for our future as a recognized and respected team.

I do not mention that and add, "I assumed that yourself and Superboy would like a mission as well. Unless you are still settling into the Cave?"

"Oh no!" Miss Martian shakes her head, "We're all settled in! Well, I am. Superboy seems a bit grumpy but I think that's how he usually is."

"I believe so," I nod. "He is similar to Speedy in that regard. Do you know when Red Tornado will be returning?"

"No, sorry," she says. "I would really like a mission though and, I'm not sure, but maybe a mission will help Superboy? Do you think…if we don't get a mission could you…we train? I know Black Canary isn't around right now but you've been doing this for awhile so you know how to train, and I guess Robin and Kid Flash do too so maybe…"

I glance back at the weaponry, "Perhaps. I would like to try one of these weapons at some point."

"We could track Red Tornado, see how close he is," suggests Miss Martian. "If we have some time you could try some of the weapons out." She pauses as we turn and walk – she flies – down the hallway, "I wouldn't mind seeing what you can do with a sword. I mean, I've seen some stuff from the news with your water-blades but it'd be even cooler in-person. I think Superboy would like it too. He probably wouldn't mind it if you taught him something about swordsmanship too." She half-smiles at me, "He seems to like you."

I raise an eyebrow.

"I mean, he talks about you…and Pansy – your human cousin right? He doesn't talk a ton beyond the grumblings – which I totally get because he's been through a lot – but he did say that you two helped him get his clothes and got him an email – Uncle J'onn got me an earth email by the way so I think we should trade emails, maybe have like a team email…thing. Superboy also made some enchiladas last night when I couldn't figure out what to make. He wasn't very," she frowns, searching for the word, "_forthcoming_ about how he knew how to make them, since I doubt it was Cadmus teaching him how to make enchiladas, but I think it was because of you."

"I suppose that would make one like another," I say awkwardly because her apparent anxiety is absolutely _bizarre_ and is making me uncomfortable.

There's a tense moment then Miss Martian questions quickly, "Do you like him?"

I look at her sharply, confused. She shakes her head and holds up her hands, palms facing me in a peace gesture, and I wonder absently if she just picked up that human gesture from time on earth or if she studied it.

Hastily, she explains, "I mean, I don't want to pry or anything I just…yeah. He mentions you and you seem really nice and calm and compassionate and you're really pretty so I can understand _why_…"

I stop and stare at her, wide-eyed as the dots connect at the mention of 'pretty'. I shake my head, "I believe we are having two different conversations."

Her green cheeks colour pink.

A blush? I didn't know Martians could blush. I thought they were similar to some Atlanteans in that sense, being unable to blush. I mean, I know just from looking at Martian Manhunter and knowing the environment on Mars that this isn't her Martian form, it is one she has chosen. I just wonder why she's putting so much effort into giving herself such human gestures and reactions alongside a more humanoid appearance. It's not as if non-humanoids are unusual on Earth. Granted, they are a little unusual on the surface-world but in Atlantis they are not _that_ unusual, no matter what the purists say. Honestly, how human she is working on acting and looking is a little unnerving now that I think about it. Which, of course, says more about myself than her. I suppose it doesn't matter what form she takes and how she chooses to act. If it is comfortable for her then it hardly matters if it unnerves me.

"I just thought…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume," Miss Martian says quickly, landing in front of me, the pink still colouring her cheeks as she wrings her hands.

"It is well," I assure her. "You thought that I held affections for Superboy. A crush, I believe, is what it is called on the surface."

"I couldn't remember the word," Miss Martian admits. "But yeah. So you don't?"

"Not at all. He needed help, whether he was willing to admit it or not," I add wryly, smirking as Miss Martian grins, clearly having experience with that facet of Superboy, "so I helped him."

"That makes sense," she says. "So you don't mind if I…"

"I do not mind, but, I do not believe it would be the best idea to pursue him at the moment. He is still adapting to being out of Cadmus, to having choices and options. I think he needs to learn how to operate independently before being with anyone otherwise…he may become dependent on the other individual and that is far from a healthy relationship." I bite my lower lip as her face falls, "I am sorry, but I do believe that before people can be in a relationship they need to know how to be by themselves. Independent. Superboy is still learning that. _I_ am still learning that."

Hence why I have not pursued Tula beyond, well, staring and complaining to Roy. (For now I will ignore my certainty that she is not attracted to girls which would put a serious damper on any romantic relationship between us and is something I do not understand, at all. Girls are attractive.)

Point A for the Girls are Attractive camp: Miss Martian is adorable beyond all belief.

While I rather doubt that Martians have the same opinions on relationships as Earthlings do, much less the same types of sexuality, she is certainly not interested in me seeing as she did just admit to having affections for Superboy. Plus, she is on the team and I have an aversion to mixing work and pleasure. It seems like it would be a cocktail for bad things.

Hence, Tula. Who, coincidentally, is Point B for the Girls are Attractive camp.

I add hastily, "Additionally, I am unsure as to whether relationships on a team are the wisest choice."

"You're probably right," Miss Martian admits with a sigh as we enter the main room and she pulls up the holographic screens to track Red Tornado with.

"Where is Superboy anyway?" I question, looking around.

"Outside. I think he's trying to scale the mountain."

I crinkle my eyes, trying to figure out _why_.

"I don't know why," she shrugs, answering my unasked question. "Maybe it's a boy thing?"

"Maybe."

It does sound like something Roy would do, just because he could. And Robin. And Kid Flash.

"Looks like he's on his way back," Miss Martian announces. "He'll be here soon."

"Who?" Superboy questions, coming up behind us.

"Red Tornado," I answer, turning slightly to look at him. "I wanted to speak with him and inquire about the status of our mission prospects."

"I thought Batman was handing out the missions," Superboy says, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Technically, yes," I say vaguely, "but Red Tornado is with the League and knows of League missions so my hope is that he will have some idea of the types of missions that we may be able to go on, and whether or not those are available for us to claim."

I am also uncertain as to how to approach Batman with this inquiry. I do not want to seem disrespectful. At least with an android that likelihood is dropped by quite a few points.

"Are you settling in well?" I question.

Superboy nods, "Yeah."

I glance at Miss Martian then look back at Superboy, fighting to maintain a conversation with him, "I heard you made enchiladas. Are you going to try to cook different meals?"

He shrugs and turns away, brushing off the dirt on his hands. Had he really been trying to scale the mountain?

Miss Martian shrugs when I look at her, not entirely certain what to do with the non-answer.

/ Recognized, Robin B01. Recognized, Kid Flash B03. /

"Did you ask him?" asks Robin immediately, clearly having had the situation explained to him by Kid Flash.

"What did he say?" adds Kid Flash eagerly.

I glance at the holographic monitors, "He is arriving now."

The boys in their civvies grin and promptly race to the exit. I follow, with the other two taking up the rear. We get outside just as Red Tornado is touching down in all his red, android glory. Kid Flash hops up, "Red Tornado!"

"Greetings," Red Tornado responds. "Is there a reason you intercept me outside the Cave?"

I step forward, "We hoped you had a mission for us."

"Mission assignments are the Batman's responsibility."

"But it's been over a week and nothing-"

Red Tornado silences Robin by holding up his hand, "You will be tested soon enough. For the time being, simply enjoy each other's company."

I purse my lips, frowning, "This team is not a social club."

I am perfectly willing to advise on social issues, such as Miss Martian's crush, and assist Superboy in figuring out the world, but just hanging out in the Cave seems completely unproductive considering what we as a team are supposed to be doing. At least we could be _monitoring_ something.

"No," Red Tornado agrees with me. "But I am told social interaction is an important team-building exercise. Perhaps you can keep busy by familiarizing yourself with the Cave."

I have already seen the blueprints.

"Keep busy?" hisses Kid Flash as Red Tornado continues into the Cave.

"Does he think we're falling for this?" Robin adds, irritated.

"Oh! I'll find out!" Miss Martian offers, turning as Red Tornado is scanned into the Cave. A couple moments pass then Miss Martian sighs, "I'm sorry. I forget he was a machine. Inorganic. I cannot read his mind."

"Nice try though," says Kid Flash. "So uh," he leans in closer to her, "you know what I'm thinking right now?"

Miss Martian looks at him warily, clearly uncertain as to what to do.

"We all know what you're thinking right now," snorts Robin, elbowing Kid Flash and giving me an opening to gently push Miss Martian forward and away from Kid Flash.

"Time for a tour of the clubhouse," I say, unable to keep the irritation from my voice.

Roy is never going to let me live this down.

"Well, Superboy and I live here so we can play tour guides," she glances at me, "although you seemed as though you knew your way around pretty well."

"I looked at the blueprints," I explain.

"Well, Superboy and I can play tour guides then!" she decides brightly.

Robin and Kid Flash look at Superboy expectantly. He just looks at them, "Don't look at me."

"We won't," says Kid Flash, managing to shove himself between Miss Martian and I and hang his arms around our shoulders, he grins at Miss Martian, "a private tour sounds much more fun."

I glare at him.

"She never said _private_," snaps Robin.

"Please stop touching me," I request, pulling Kid Flash's arm off my shoulders and twisting him around so that he's standing beside me, putting me between him and Miss Martian. I focus on Kid Flash, "Team-building. We'll _all_ go."

He shoots me an odd look. I turn away from him and stride forward, ensuring that I am next to Miss Martian. She glances slightly back at Kid Flash then back at me. Her eyes flick up to the entry. With a hint of mocking in her voice she announces with the prototypical tour guide inflection, "This would be our front door."

Eventually we get to the water entry where Kid Flash explains for Miss Martian's and Superboy's benefit, "The mountain was hollowed out and reinforced in the early days of the League."

"Then why abandon it for the Hall of Justice?" asks Superboy.

"The Cave's secret location was compromised."

"So they traded it in for a tourist trap? Yeah, that makes sense," scoffs Superboy.

They didn't tell them about the Watchtower then. I make a mental note of that and wonder what else Miss Martian and Superboy haven't been told of. I will have to find that out.

"If the bad guys know about the Cave then we must be on constant alert," says Miss Martian, alarmed.

"The bad guys know we know they know about the place so they'd never think to look here," explains Robin in a roundabout way that really doesn't make anything clearer.

"Uh, he means we're hiding in plain sight," says Kid Flash.

"Ah, that's…much clearer," Miss Martian says not entirely earnestly.

Superboy frowns, "I smell smoke."

Miss Martian gasps and promptly takes to the air, flying back to the kitchen, exclaiming, "My cookies!"

We follow at a more controlled pace in time to catch her taking out the cookie sheet telekinetically and resting it on the counter. All of the cookies are burned very thoroughly. Blackened pieces of…well now they are charcoal.

"I was trying out Granny Jones' recipe from episode 17 of ah – heh," Miss Martian stops, looking embarrassed.

"I'm sure they would've tasted great!" offers Robin. He gestures to Kid Flash who grabs three former cookies turned charcoal and nearly inhales them, "He doesn't seem to mind."

Kid Flash looks around at us, "I…have a serious metabolism."

"I'll make more?" suggests Miss Martian.

"It was sweet of you to make any," I say, trying to ignore the burning smell, which always brings up thoughts of fire and heat, neither of which agree with me.

"Thanks Aqualass."

My lips tighten. I force myself to relax and say, "We are off-duty, call me Kalladura'ham." I pause, "Well, my friends call me Kalla."

"I'm Wally," Kid Flash says, leaning over the counter in what I am certain he thinks is...seductive…or something. "See, I already trust you with my secret ID. Unlike Mister Dark Glasses over here," he gestures to Robin, "Batman's forbidden him from telling anyone his real name."

"My name's no secret," Miss Martian grins, "it's M'gann M'orzz. But, you can call me Megan. It's an Earth name, and I'm on Earth now."

She really is excited to be here. It's refreshing.

Superboy twitches sharply. He whirls around in his move to the TV room and shouts, "Get out of my head!"

...what?

I turn, looking at M'gann.

_::: What's wrong I-I don't understand. Everyone on Mars communicates telepathically. :::_

I wince, unused to the presence of a person communicating telepathically with me other than my matim. Wally and Robin are wincing as well and out of the corner of my eye I can spot Superboy curling his hands into fists.

I snap sharply, "M'gann! Stop!" The connection cuts off sharply and I lick my lips, explaining evenly, "Things are different here, on Earth. Here your powers are an extreme invasion of privacy."

"Besides," adds Wally, "Cadmus' creepy little psychic G-Gnomes left a bad taste in his," he points to Superboy, "brain."

"I-I didn't mean t-"

"Just. Stay. Out," Superboy growls, cutting M'gann off. He sits on the couch, brooding. _Wonderful._

M'gann breaks the tense silence, "Hello Megan! I know what we can do!"

She flies over us prompting us to turn and look up as she flies. Skirted legs pass over us and I promptly flick my eyes down, suddenly realizing the problem with skirts and flight. In the process I glance at Wally, who does not flick his eyes down. I stare at him, an incredulous expression passing over my face as M'gann heads into the corridor.

Wally looks at me, confused, "What?"

I fail at articulating the problem and just splutter, _"Really?_"

"What?!"

Oh Poseidon, give me strength.

I dart after M'gann, making a mental note to mention the problems of skirts and flight to her as soon as possible.

I dread the moment when I explain the team's status to Roy. He is going to play off my hatred of non-professionalism with a joy only rivaled by Wally's joy for food. Roy will never let me live this down. Ugh. I need new friends.

* * *

**A/N: **Bit of an interlude here but I was getting tired of Roy and Kalla fighting and I figured Kalla wasn't one to let these types of arguments lay for long. Disagreements with her superiors? Certainly. She would take those to her grave. Disagreements with her best surface-world friend? For a time, yes. But her frustrations have been building lately and even she has a limit to her patience so…not this time. Also, every story needs more Roy and Kaldur interaction, so this is my version.

I'm so excited I get to write M'gann and Kalla interacting! Finally! More teenage female BAMFs! You have no idea how excited I was for when I finally got to write more of M'gann. Also, Rocket.

Originally, I was going to post Sha'lain'a 5. Then Sha'lain'a stopped cooperating and I wasted time trying to get her to cooperate, so that didn't happen.

Headcanon is that Kaldur has a thing for weaponry, fyi.

**Sorry for the wait! I'll reply to your reviews ASAP!**


	15. Kalladura'ham 11

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 103: Happy Harbor._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, minor coarse language, mention of the Greek Pantheon (not exactly held to the same morality standards we have, hence, warning)**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Friendship is thinking of the other person first."_

George Alexiou

* * *

**11**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : July 18, 2010 – 12:09 EDT**

"It's my Martian Bio-Ship," announces M'gann as we enter the hanger.

It seems to be a sphere.

With no entries. Or exits.

Alright. This will be interesting.

"Cute," says Wally. "Not aerodynamic, but cute."

"It's at rest silly," says M'gann. "I'll wake it." She waves her hand at it and the sphere turns, growing wings, thrusters, an exit/entry and in general succeeding in looking more like a jet.

She walks forward as a ramp descends from the exit. She pauses and turns to us, unmoving, "Well? Are you coming?"

I am uncertain as to how I feel about entering a ship that could morph back into a sphere and crush me inside it.

I suppose M'gann would not invite us in if she was not certain of its abilities, and her own, though.

I walk inside with the boys and we watch as the purple and blue interior morphs, growing chairs from its floor and consoles from its sides. When we sit on the chairs they grow seatbelts that cross over our chests and two glowing orbs rise on pedestals from the floor by the pilot's seat which, apparently, are used to control the ship.

"Red Tornado," calls M'gann once we're all seated with Robin and Wally in the back by M'gann, and myself and Superboy up front, "please open the bay doors."

We soar out of the hanger, doing a couple twists in the air with the bay stretching out below us.

I wonder if there is a similar ship suitable for Atlantis.

"Incredible," gushes Robin.

Wally sighs, "She sure is. I-I mean the ship. Which, like all ships, is a she."

I roll my eyes and glance at Superboy. He still looks angry, and a little uncomfortable.

I lean over, "I may not have M'gann's telepathy, but I can guess what you're thinking. You overreacted and you don't know how to apologize." I smile at him, "Just say 'sorry.'"

I sincerely hope that I am correct in my assumption.

"Hey, how about showing us a little Martian shapeshifting?" suggests Robin as I lean back.

Superboy and I turn in our chairs to watch as M'gann levels the Bio-Ship and stands. She spins, shapeshifting into a female version of Robin. She spins again, shapeshifting into a female version of Kid Flash.

Wally sighs at the female version of himself, "Is it wrong that I think I'm hot?"

Robin claps, "Impressive, but, y'know you're not exactly gonna fool anyone with those."

"Mimicking boys is a lot harder," M'gann explains. She grins at me, "I can mimic you though!"

She twirls and I blink, finding myself staring at a copy of myself in my Aqualass uniform.

"See?" she says in my voice.

"That is…" bizarre, weird, strange, unnerving, "impressive," I settle on.

"Dude! That is _uncanny_," Wally gushes, looking between myself and M'gann.

"Thanks," she shrinks and returns to her green self.

"What about your clothes?" I question, eyeing her skirt dubiously. That thing is making me concerned.

"They're organic," she explains, "like the ship. They respond to my mental commands."

"As long as they're the only ones," says Superboy.

I side-eye him. He ignores me.

"Can you do that ghosting through walls thing that Manhunter does?" asks Wally.

"Density-shifting?" M'gann says dubiously. "No. It's a very advanced technique."

"Flash can vibrate his molecules right through a wall," Robin chuckles, looking at Wally, "when he tries it, bloody nose."

"Dude!"

"Here's something I can do!" M'gann announces. "Camouflage mode."

The Bio-Ship becomes camouflaged against the sky. I lean over the console and look below us, attempting to catch a glimpse of the Bio-Ship around us. I do not succeed. M'gann has some handy powers.

::: Red Tornado to Miss Martian, ::: echoes in the Bio-Ship courtesy of Red Tornado over the com-channel. ::: An emergency alert has been triggered at the Happy Harbour Power Plant. I suggest you investigate. Covertly. I'm sending coordinates. :::

"Received," says M'gann.

"He's keeping us busy," Robin grumbles.

It seems possible.

"Well," says M'gann as we approach the plant, "a simple fire led you to Superboy. We should find out what caused the alert."

Makes sense. However, the plant looks quiet.

"I think I know the cause," says Superboy, looking out the opposite side of the Bio-Ship where a tornado is hurtling towards us.

My eyes widen and immediately the Bio-Ship shoots off, unfortunately it is quickly caught at the rear by the tornado and sent spiralling. I grip the edge of my sheet and squeeze my eyes shut, suddenly rather irritated that I cannot do a thing to make the spinning stop, be that controlling the tornado or piloting the Bio-Ship.

Suddenly, the spinning stops and we settle for a moment. I recover quickly, blinking rapidly to try and make my head stop spinning, and shout, "Off the Bio-Ship!"

M'gann stops the Bio-Ship and the chairs retract back into the ship as we stand. The floor retracts from beneath us and we drop, landing lightly on the parking lot. It's easy to tell from the screams in the building that the owners of the vehicles around us are not all out yet and are well aware of the tornado heading straight for them. They should be our priority.

"Robin, are tornados common to New England?" I question, because the tornado, frankly, doesn't scream 'natural' to me. I turn, expecting Robin to answer and find nothing instead, "Robin!"

His usual laugh reaches our ears and M'gann turns, searching for him, "He was just here!"

I subdue my want to curse and instead sprint toward the building as a row of windows explodes and through the doors beneath a group of civilians are running out. Superboy and Wally quickly move past me while M'gann opts to fly.

I catch the tail end of Robin's reply to Superboy as we enter the main building, "He plays kinda rough!"

I probably should have been expecting something like this. A large – nearly twice Robin's height – mechanical looking male is standing on the opposite side of the main room of the plant, boasting bright red and dark blue paint. Light blue tubs jut out from his back and wind down his arms to his hands. For some reason he's wearing a scarf. The scarf seems out of place.

His voice is loud and low, all-encompassing as he looks at us from above his scarf and intones, "My apologies, you may address me as Mister Twister."

With a couple waves of his hands, wind surges out from them and spin into Superboy, sending him careening across the room and colliding with the opposite wall.

Aerokinetic then, at least functionally if not physiologically.

I glance at M'gann, conscious of the fact that this will be her first mission. She glances away from Superboy, slowly getting up, and looks at me. At my expression she nods, narrowing her eyes. We turn to Mister Twister and, in a startling display of unplanned cooperation, advance on Twister.

Wally, with his spare goggles now on, flips when he reaches Twister. Twister blocks his kick with wind and sends him hurtling through the opposite door and skidding across the ground outside. Small tornados rise up from the ground right beneath M'gann and I, sending us spiralling up and across the room. My head collides with a stone pillar, taking out a chunk of rock, and I hit the ground with rocky debris atop me.

I grimace and push myself onto my hands and knees as Twister declares, "I was prepared to be challenged by a superhero, I was not, however, expecting _children_."

Children.

Ugh.

I push the insult away and scan the room. A large pipe directly above Twister that could come in useful. A walkway behind and to the right of him. May be too far to the right to be useful. Multiple pillars. But if we take those out we could bring down the entire building, which we probably should not do. I would prefer to not have to hold up a chunk of a building again.

"We're not children!" Robin shouts. There's a flash and a couple of bangs, signalling the explosions from his birdarangs in front of Twister, followed quickly by a third to the side.

"Objectively, you are," he says as Superboy makes his way over to Robin. "Have you no adult supervision? I find your presence here quit disturbing."

I grab M'gann by the arm, helping her up, and pointedly look at the large pipe directly above Twister. She nods, presumably understanding, as we re-join Superboy and Robin.

"Well! We hate to see you disturbed! Let's see if you're more turbed once we kick your can!" Robin shouts.

M'gann snaps her hands out and pulls them sharply back in, sending the bottom half of the pipe curling up and the steam-like contents within spilling out onto Twister. Oh. I had wanted her to drop the pipe on top of him, not the contents. Well. That was unfortunate.

Superboy leaps forward, through the steam. He's promptly shoved back by tornados and straight into M'gann in the air. Robin and I dart forward, myself sending a charge down my arms because I rather doubt the tubes on his back and arms will like electricity and they look important enough to be destroyed.

Twin tornados rise up, catching both of us. I promptly drop the charge, shouting out as the world whips by me then suddenly stops as I collide face-first with Robin. I fall backward, my head hitting the ground, and grimace, not catching whatever it was Twister said.

My head is going to start throbbing at some point today, I am certain.

Why is he even attacking this place? Does he just want attention or something? There isn't anything particularly valuable in this plant. At least, nothing I know of.

I stand and push my sleeves up, my patience now dangerously close to its limits. I head outside, finding it easy enough to follow Twister's path with the obvious markings his tornados left behind.

Wally is flung up into a tornado in the next instant and beside me M'gann snaps out her hands again and calls as the wind around him settles, "I've got you Wally."

I move past them and look up at Twister as he takes to the sky. I narrow my eyes and shout, "What do you want?!"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm waiting for a real hero!" Twister declares.

I am so sick of this man, of _everyone_ claiming we aren't real heroes just because we're called sidekicks. I want to punch his face. Rip the tubes out of his back. Take my returning frustrations out on him.

I snap, surprising myself with my tone as I glance at M'gann, "Read his mind. Find a weakness."

I need to calm down. This is getting out of hand. I – we – won't be able to beat Twister if we are not calm, in control, and working as a team.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to do that!" M'gann protests.

"It's okay with the bad guys!" Robin shouts.

M'gann quiets and shuts her eyes tightly. I glance at her. She hisses, "Nothing, I'm getting nothing!"

Okay. Okay.

How do you beat an aerokinetic with a high-tech…suit…body…thing who is attempting to take advantage of our feelings regarding sidekicks and heroes and respect? _Think._

"Hello Megan!" she exclaims abruptly. "Mister Twister is Red Tornado in disguise! He's inorganic, an android, and how many androids do you know that can generate tornados?"

That seems to be…a sound conclusion. I could refute it. Another telepath could surely block their mind from another. There have also been rumours of Black Manta's helmet being able to block telepathy. But I do not know many aerokinetics that could fit in either of those categories.

"Red Tornado sent us here," I add, using the final piece to support M'gann's theory.

Robin frowns, "After saying we'd be 'tested soon enough'? _This_ is his test! Something to keep us busy."

Wally growls, "Speedy called it. We're a joke. This game, so over."

My hands twitch at the though of constantly being thought of as not good enough, as 'just a little girl', as someone who should have never put on the uniform and been taught how to survive, how to be a soldier, how to be a hero. I turn sharply, unable to keep from stomping my feet a couple times as I stalk toward Twister-Red-Tornado, closely followed by Robin and Wally.

Roy is going to rub this in when he hears of it.

Robin shouts, "We know who you are and what you want!"

"So let's end this!" I demand, opening myself up, giving him a free shot.

"Consider it ended," Twister-Red-Tornado says. He raises his hands into the air, spawning twin tornados as the clouds gather above us, darkening, and the wind rises.

I've seen worse on the oceans. I shout, "An impressive show, but we will not indulge you! We _will not_ engage!"

Lightning sparks behind him as the twin tornados move together to form the letter 'M'. I feel my conviction dying at the sight of the lightning.

Red Tornado can't do that.

"Um, can Red Tornado do that?" asks Wally.

The lightning is building.

"You think I'm Tornado?" says Twister. "Ironic."

The lightning strikes. It sends explosions across the ground, rips up grass and dirt and rocks, and washes heat across us, effortlessly sending us careening across the field. I land on my left arm, narrowly managing to twist so that I roll and don't accidentally dislocate it. I hit the ground face first then and roll again, managing to get onto my back so that I am not eating dirt. The heat is familiar, that of lightning, of electricity, but with the lack of the familiar rain that comes during a thunderstorm it is far from enjoyable and only exacerbates my headache. I succumb to darkness.

The darkness is brief and I feel a grimace cross my face as my head throbs. I have been hit far too much on the head these past few days.

I push myself up to a sitting position then freeze upon the sight of M'gann covering Wally's mouth, and Twister above us, apparently not seeing us as he says, "Playing hide-and-seek with you will not help me achieve my objectives. So _stay_ concealed. If you confront me again I will show _no mercy_." Slightly blurred – it reminds me of the air above a fire – electricity sparks in his fist then he turns and flies stiffly over the trees, away from the plant.

So he's not Red Tornado. He just wants to fight him for some unknown reason.

"What happened?" asks Wally.

M'gann explains softly, "I placed the Bio-Ship between us-"

_CRASH! CRACK!_

Superboy turns from punching some rocks and stalks toward M'gann, his body language nothing but hostile, "And that's supposed to make it right? You tricked us into thinking Twister was Tornado!"

I move forward swiftly, standing between M'gann and Superboy, and force my voice to remain calm as I retort, "She did not try to trick us."

"It was a rookie mistake," says Robin, "we shouldn't have listened."

I look at Robin sharply, my eyebrows rising.

"You are pretty inexperienced," Wally admits awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Hit the showers, we'll take it from here."

Superboy growls, "Stay out of our way."

All three dart away. Dust rises behind Kid Flash. Booms follow Superboy. Robin isn't laughing.

I stare after them in disbelief. We are supposed to be a team! These attitudes are not helping the team be formed! Besides, it is not as if Superboy has any more experience! Ugh.

"I was…just trying to be a part of a team," M'gann says, looking completely dejected kneeling on the ground and succeeding in pulling at my heartstrings, repeatedly.

I sigh, "To be honest, I do not think we even have a team."

My eyes find the dust trail Wally left behind. I should probably follow them, make sure they do not get themselves killed, but I would be leaving M'gann alone then and doing to her exactly what they did to her. If we are to be a team we need to start working as one, and that includes accepting the newest member and helping each other. That is what teams do. I suppose I should show them that, seeing as I am the only one here who has worked in a team around this size. It was a squad technically, but that is beside the point. I have worked with other people for extended periods of time before, usually when dealing with Sirens, no one else here has. That is, unless there is something about M'gann I am falsely assuming.

I turn to M'gann, "Would you like to be on my team?"

She looks up at me, a hopeful expression spreading across her face.

"Are you with me, Miss Martian?" I question, holding my hand out to her.

"What are we going to do? Call Red Tornado?"

"At the moment, yes," I say, helping her to her feet. I glance at her Bio-Ship, "And if that doesn't go well we will have to come up with a plan on our own. I will need your help."

She nods fiercely, "I'm with you."

"Then let's save the boys."

She grins.

I can't stop myself from grinning along.

We climb back into the Bio-Ship, her piloting while I take a seat up front and mentally run through everything we've learned about Mister Twister in the brief moments we have fought him.

Aerokinetic with something high tech that he's either wearing or he _is_. The aerokinesis probably isn't natural and could be taken out by taking out his tech. He wears a weird scarf. For some reason. He has a fixation on Red Tornado. Perhaps he wishes to compare their abilities?

M'gann contacts Red Tornado as I think, and explains what happened then adds, "The team really needs your help."

I wouldn't say _really,_ but I suppose it could work to try and garner some sympathy for our current failure.

::: If I were to intervene it would not be to 'help', ::: says Red Tornado. I have to admit, he has a point. He would likely simply beat Twister himself, and that is not helping, that is doing it for us. He adds, ::: Still, it is odd that this Twister shares my elemental abilities and my immunity to telepathy. :::

I maintain that the telepathic immunity is not _that_ odd.

"Hello Megan!" M'gann exclaims. I look back at her with a raised eyebrow. "Thanks Tornado!"

The communication is ended and I look quizzically at M'gann.

She explains quickly, "Twister wants to fight Red Tornado, right?"

"Yes…"

"So let's bring him," she smirks.

It takes me a moment but I when I understand I frown, "I thought males were hard for you to mimic."

"Biologically speaking, yes, and I prefer female forms. But I can shapeshift into an android that appears to be male and is programmed to identify as male."

"You could levitate items to make them appear to be lifted by winds," I muse, "and Wally can create small tornados when spinning."

"Exactly!"

"You would have to only be the distraction then, initially at least. Make Twister think the rest of us, well, the boys at least, are leaving. Twister will write the boys and us off and face you as Red Tornado then."

"Yeah!" M'gann nods excitedly. "But how…we tried beating him before and it didn't work."

"We didn't have a plan then. Can you get a birds-eye view of the area Twister is currently in? Camouflage mode. But be careful, camouflage isn't invisible."

She nods and the Bio-Ship ascends, keeping her camouflage mode active. We study the area Twister is battling it out with the boys. It's by a tiny port and a large house which is slowly getting destroyed, mainly by Superboy being thrown into it. Trees border it all and most of the civilians seem to be out of the area, which is beneficial. Again, I find my eyes drawn to the tubes running from Twister's back to his hands. I still believe those are important.

"You'll be the distraction that writes off the rest of us. You and Wally will lead Twister on for awhile," I explain.

"Should I let him think he has me?"

"That would be good. Let Twister think he has you taken out so we know what he wishes to do with Red Tornado, then surprise him."

"Then the guys move in."

"Yes. You and the boys get him into the water and I'll take care of him there. When I get him out of the water keep working on taking out his systems. Try to focus on his arms and those tubes."

M'gann looks uncertain, "Think the guys will agree?"

"Yes," I say, refusing to voice my misgivings as I stand and tug off my jacket and shoes. "I'll need you to drop me in the water pretty far from the battle. Can you make a psychic link between us and the boys?"

M'gann nods and I feel the familiar sensation of a telepathic link being established as the Bio-Ship moves down low enough to drop me into the ocean a ways away. I adjust my Atlantean midriff baring shirt and glance down at my jeans. I tug them off, leaving myself in my Atlantean shirt and shorts. I dive into the water, well aware that this would be easier if I had brought my waterbearers.

M'gann's voice echoes in my mind, _::: Listen to us. All of you. :::_

_::: What did we tell you?! ::: _Superboy exclaims.

_::: I know! And I know I messed up! ::: _M'gann snaps.

_::: I told her to, Superboy, ::: _I cut in, moving the heat off M'gann and to me. _::: We have a plan. :::_

I pause by one of the boats docked and grab an anchor discarded by it. It could be useful.

M'gann explains the plan quickly and once the others give their grudging agreement I pull the anchor up and poke my eyes up out of the water to watch as Twister does his thing.

M'gann as Red Tornado enters, with Wally creating tornados for her and her using her telekinesis to fling things at Twister. Twister, in what seems to be the usual for him, makes his arrogant statements and mocks us "children". Then M'gann is "down" and Twister bends over her, I think attempting to either take some of "Red Tornado's" information or reprogram him. M'gann flings him telekinetically into a Wally-created tornado which propels Twister into Superboy. After a pummelling courtesy of Superboy wherein he loses an arm, Twister is thrown across the land. I dive underwater, seeing his landing point immediately, and whip the anchor around, sending it colliding with the now one-armed Twister's chest. It sticks there firmly, giving me the opening to send a surge of electricity through it, prompting a small explosion and Twister to careen out of the water and back onto land.

I leap out of the water, still carrying the anchor, as M'gann telekinetically rips Twister's remaining arm off his body. Robin sends explosive birdarangs at Twister. The instant they explode M'gann lets Twister drop. We walk toward him as Twister rises onto his knees. His chest pops open, surprisingly, and a small, skinny pale man with greying brown hair falls out.

The man stumbles over his words, apparently frightened, "I-I ca-call foul."

I flip the anchor over my shoulder and let it hit the ground, hard. I open my mouth to remark on his fortitude but quickly change my mind as M'gann telekinetically lifts a large boulder from nearby and sends it hurtling towards the man. I shout, "M'GANN NO!"

I grab her shoulder as the boulder impacts with the man. I stare, wide-eyed, at the boulder crushing the man to his death.

Wait.

I frown. Why is there no blood? It should be seeping out from beneath the boulder, shouldn't it?

"Don't know how things are done on _Mars_ but on _Earth_ _we don't_ _execute our captives!_" Robin shouts.

"You said you trust me," she says, lifting her hand to the boulder. I release her shoulder and watch, wary, as the boulder rises. Revealed, are the crushed remains of the man, not bones and flesh and blood, but metal and plastic, oil and wires.

"That's why I couldn't read his mind," she explains.

Wally crouches next to the crushed android and plucks the one eye that fell out of the android's head, "Cool, souvenir."

What if it was a helmet? What if he was another telepath?

I lick my lips then squeeze M'gann's shoulder, "You did well."

She beams.

"Yeah, you rocked this mission! Get it? Rock," laughs Wally.

I roll my eyes as Robin covers for Wally.

"Hey, so, is that like…your underwear or something?" asks Wally as Robin apologizes to M'gann. Wally eyes me suspiciously. "Or do you just wear a uniform under your clothes all the time?"

"Uniform," I answer, although it could technically be referred to as both. I hoist the anchor onto my shoulder in a show of strength which, when paired with my expression, makes Wally retreat swiftly. Hopefully, he got the message that the question was inappropriate.

With all of the pieces of both androids we return to the cave to analyse the pieces. Red Tornado meets us as we are just finishing the initial analyses of the pieces leftover.

"It was clearly created to sabotage," as seen by Twister attempting to reprogram M'gann, "or destroy you," I explain as Robin continues to spearhead the analyses with Wally.

"Is that why you wouldn't help us?" asks M'gann.

"No," answers Tornado. "This was your battle. I do not believe it is my role to solve your problems for you. Nor should you solve mine for me." The boys pause, looking up from their screens to look at Red Tornado.

"Um, but if you're in danger-"

Red Tornado cuts M'gann off, "Consider this matter closed."

Red Tornado turns away and leaves us to the analyses. I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms.

"Batman, Aquaman and Flash, they'd have jumped right in and fixed things," comments Wally.

He has a point. This could be advantageous for us having Red Tornado as our…supervisor.

"Guess if we're gonna have a babysitter a heartless machine is exactly what we need," says Robin.

I shoot a disapproving glare at Robin as Wally hisses, "Dude, harsh."

"And inaccurate," says Red Tornado. "I have a heart. Carbon-steel alloy. I also have excellent hearing."

"Ah, oh, sorry," says Robin. "I'll a, strive to be more accurate."

"And more respectful," I add, shooting Robin a _look_.

Robin stuffs his hands into his pockets and promptly starts scuffing the ground. "Yeah, that too," he agrees.

"Speedy was so wrong," says Wally, grinning at Robin and I.

Robin nods in agreement, "This team thing might just work out."

I smirk and return to the analyses screens to log the last pieces of information. Superboy pauses in his move to follow the other two and I ensure that I continue typing and looking busy. I do not wish to be intrusive, at least, not obviously.

"Sorry," Superboy says.

I hear his footsteps as he leaves the room, likely with M'gann flying beside him, and smile to myself.

"Kalla?" M'gann asks.

I jump, having expected her to leave with Superboy. I log the last piece of information and turn, "Yes, M'gann?"

"Hey Gills!" Robin calls, nearly bouncing back into the room with Wally at his side. "You gonna come with? Celebrate?"

"Whooo party!" Wally grins, flinging his hands into the air.

I glance at M'gann, "M'gann, what is it you wished to say?"

"I…" she hesitates, glancing at Robin uncertainly,

Robin looks between us, M'gann glancing uncertainly from Robin and Wally then back to myself while I look at M'gann, puzzling over her intent.

Robin laughs, "Dude, girl talk? _You_ girl talk? That's like…a whole other language. Even _Batman_ doesn't get it."

Girl talk? That was what she was intending…? What? I glance at M'gann. She still seems uncertain. Oh. Huh. I look at Robin and point out drily, "Robin, I am a girl."

Robin stills, as if the realization just occurred to him, "Oh. Yeah. Right."

Superboy pokes his head into the room as Wally sniggers, "Dude, how'd you miss that? She's in skintight spandex whenever we see her!"

I rub the bridge of my nose as Robin retorts, "She's like my sister! It's _weird _to, you know, think of her as a _girl._"

"Supey, c'mon," Wally calls, grabbing Superboy's arm. When had he gotten here?

With a quizzical look in my direction, Superboy follows Wally as the speedster continues to heckle Robin.

"You didn't know she was a girl?" I hear Superboy question Robin.

"That's it! We're done with this!" Robin declares. "Shut up Wally."

"My apologies for them," I say as their voices fade and I turn back to M'gann. "What is it?"

"I…" she hesitates, "My Uncle J'onn told me stories about the League. I just…I thought you were really…really good. You always seemed so calm and cool and collected and confident, and you _are_!" She flushes, "I just wanted you to know that."

"Oh." I hesitate, not entirely certain what to say. "Thank you. I am…flattered."

What did Martian Manhunter tell her about me? We have had extremely few missions together and I have not always been calm, cool, collected, and confident. I've had my share of breakdowns. What in the name of Poseidon did he tell his niece?

She beams and promptly hugs me. When I stiffen she recoils immediately, wide-eyed, "I'm sorry! I've been studying Earth culture and I thought that was when a hug would happen!"

I shake my head, "No, no, you are correct. I am simply not the most…physically affectionate person around."

At least not with people I just met.

"Oh, sorry," she apologizes.

"It is well."

She smiles, "You know, I've always wanted an Earth sister."

"Oh?"

"I have twelve on Mars but it's different. A lot different."

"I have no siblings myself so I…couldn't confirm."

"Um, I've read about these things called sleepovers but I've never actually had one. Do you want to…maybe…have one? Do you have those in Atlantis?"

"We do," I confirm, chuckling. "And I would be honoured."

She hovers excitedly, "Awesome! We could do each other's nails and, well, you could braid my hair and I could give you a makeover! We could stay up late and eat junk food and watch stupid movies and it'll be awesome!" Concern crosses her face, "But, wait, Superboy lives here too. Do we have to ban him from the TV room?"

"It is your choice."

"Sleepovers usually don't include boys do they?"

"Generally, when the sleepovers are had by two females that is true."

"Maybe you could just hang out here, that way Superboy won't feel excluded."

"I could."

"Can I still paint your nails?"

"If you wish."

"Can I do it now? I got some nail polish a little while ago."

I nod, figuring I can get my mission report done after, "Certainly."

"Awesome! I'll get the stuff and meet you in the TV room!"

She flies away. I chuckle and turn back to the android in pieces. I make a quick decision to leave the android pieces out under the assumption that Batman will wish to take a look at it. I head to the TV room just as M'gann flies into it, a few jars of nail polish floating behind her.

"The guys left," she announces.

"Did they?"

"Yeah, Wally and Robin said they were going to teach Superboy the 'fine art of celebration'. I told them that we'd celebrate here ourselves. I hope that's okay."

I feel my stomach clench in dread at those words.

"It's fine, M'gann. Did they say where they were going?" I question, concerned mainly for my sanity.

"No, sorry," she shakes her head.

Hopefully, they went to Gotham or Central, not anywhere in Happy Harbour. Or to Roy. Roy would kill them and Happy Harbour would be partially my responsibility. At least in Gotham or Central their mentors – AKA, not I – would have to deal with any…excessive celebrations they use in the guise of "educating" Superboy.

"We could have a sleepover now, if you want," M'gann suggests.

"Sure," I shrug.

I can write the report tomorrow. Annex will be fine if it is a few hours late. I have gotten in enough reports early to put in one late. Hopefully.

M'gann grins and claps, flying up, "I'll get the supplies!"

I feel the dread – tempered, but still dread – returning. Supplies? What supplies? Pansy and I only ever watched movies, trained, and made obnoxiously terribly makeup decisions during our official "sleepovers". What supplies?

I set the nail polish up in a row on top of the coffee table with some paper covering it to catch any spills. I make my initial polish pick – a gorgeous deep royal blue – and flip on the television, searching for one of the films Pansy had declared were necessary for Superboy to watch. There's a documentary about penguins, a thriller I have no desire to watch, a Scooby-Doo film, a film about Mars invading Earth – I quickly click pass that one – and a superhero film about The Flaming C. He wears an oven mitt. I have never understood the entertainment value of the character.

M'gann returns, dropping off ten magazines, a bag filled with what seems to be unopened makeup – why would she have it if she doesn't need it, being a shapeshifter and all – and a pile of DVDs. She quickly moves to the kitchen and sets up the popcorn maker then returns and sits on the floor where she quickly begins to sift through the magazines. She makes a noise of excitement once she finds the one she was looking for and flips through it, explaining, "This one had a whole _sleepover guide_. Stuff you have to do. I remembered the popcorn and the movies – scary ones – and then makeover stuff but apparently you also have to talk about boys-"

And girls. I add mentally.

"complain about your parents-"

Not much to complain about there, I'm afraid. Except for the looks between them and Annex. What are they planning?

"play truth-or-dare-"

That could get interesting.

"eat a lot of junk food, besides popcorn-"

Makes me sick.

"and either stay up all night or – according to a couple films and a TV show I watched – wind up sleeping in really odd positions that probably aren't comfortable for any human girl."

She beams at me, as if looking for confirmation.

"Um, I suppose so," I say. "We can adjust it. For example, I am not that fond of junk food."

"Oh, do you like popcorn?"

"Yes, but plain. Without butter or salt."

"Okay!" M'gann grins, "I don't mind it. But I prefer it with sour stuff, like lemons. I like the sour food here."

"Suppose Mars has some different foods," I muse. "We can do whatever we like."

"Yeah, it's not Earth," she laughs, "I don't think I can do much with your hair."

I run a hand self-consciously over my shaved hair. I smile, "I suppose not. Polish works though."

"What colour do you want?"

"I prefer that blue," I say, pointing to said colour. "Would you like to put in a film first?"

"Sure! I've got a perfect one. The boy at the store said it was really scary," M'gann says, pulling out the DVD. I glance at the case and raise an eyebrow at the title _Zombie War_.

Somehow, I am just not that scared.

M'gann dims the lights then grabs the popcorn and sets it down on the coffee table as the top menu pops up. I start the movie as M'gann uncaps the polish then sits by my feet and starts to apply the nail polish telekinetically.

Close to the film's end I'm staring at the TV, bored, with M'gann looking similarly unimpressed. My toes are dry but my fingers aren't, and M'gann has taken to telekinetically feeding me popcorn to save my fingernails.

"This is scary?" M'gann questions, puzzled.

"To some, I suppose it would be," I admit. "But I suppose for us it is merely…"

"Tuesday?" she suggests.

"Tuesday," I nod.

Blood splatters across the screen. M'gann blinks, "He wouldn't bleed like that from a wound in his leg, would he?"

"No."

"I didn't think so."

"Do you know much about human physiologies?"

"I have a couple books on human physiology. One you're supposed to colour in. Knowing some of that stuff helps with shapeshifting," she responds, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees, causing her braided hair to move stiffly. She had requested I braid her hair.

I glance at her nightgown – she had shifted halfway through the film when I had opted to change into my shorts-and-tank-top pyjamas – and frown, "M'gann, are you aware of the fact that flying with a skirt may not be the best idea?"

M'gann looks at me, frowns for a moment, then nods, "Oh, I never thought of that. Shouldn't people just…not look?"

"That would be ideal," I admit. "Have you tried fighting in pants as opposed to a skirt?"

"Not really," she shrugs. "Is there that much of a difference?"

"I don't know how organic clothing is different from ours but I do find a difference."

M'gann nods, thinking, "Do Atlanteans wear skirts?"

"Occasionally. Usually it is a variation, a wrap of sorts, as it is known on the surface."

"Cool. What's Atlantis like?"

I think for a moment, "It is very large. Nearly seventy percent of the planet is Atlantean territory. We have small settlements called city-states and because of Atlantis' size they are each governed fairly independently from the Atlantean Monarchy-"

"Your mentor, Aquaman, he's the King of Atlantis, right?"

"Yes."

"So you're sort of like its Princess?"

"I am not," I say. "Annex – that means 'king' and 'my king' in Atlantean – has mentioned that I as Aqualass am considered a national symbol. Most Atlanteans know what Aqualass looks like and because of that I as Aqualass am occasionally called on to do PSAs – Public Service Announcements – for Atlantis or various city-states, and similar. In the event that none of the Royal Family, or the Advisors can make it to an important event Aqualass may be called upon to represent the national rulers or Atlantis as a whole."

"So you consider yourself separate from Aqualass?"

"Not entirely. But in the situation you are referring to, politically, symbolically and such, yes I do consider myself separate." I pause, "How Annex explained it to me when I began was that Aquaman is considered to represent all of Atlantis, mostly its good, into one central symbol to represent Atlantis on the world stage and Atlantean culture within Atlantis itself. Annex – that is King Orin – represents the Royal Family. He naturally represents Atlantis as a whole but in comparison to his Aquaman persona he represents the Royal Family and the politics of Atlantis moreso when he is acting as Annex, rather than Aquaman."

"And you're the same?"

"I am similar. As a whole, Kalladura'ham and Aqualass, I represent the people of Atlantis. Not its policies – economic, political, social etcetera – but its people as a whole. As Kalladura'ham I represent the civilians of Atlantis and am expected to uphold the values and beliefs the people of Atlantis hold dear. As Aqualass I represent the military and justice of Atlantis. Whereas Aquaman represents all that Atlanteans can be, Aqualass represents the justice of Atlanteans, what they can and should do to be ideal representations of Atlantis and its beliefs and values.

"The main difference between Aquaman and Aqualass is how they were trained. Aquaman was trained first and foremost as a peacekeeper, a politician, and a judge of sorts. Aqualass was trained first and foremost as a survivor, as a warrior and a soldier. Therefore, Aqualass as a symbol is centered around Atlantean justice, military and survival while Aquaman as a symbol is centered around Atlantean cooperation, truth, and its people thriving."

"I'm not sure I understand," M'gann says.

I fall silent, considering how to explain it, "Well, in the Greek Pantheon, which you may be more familiar with, there are many deities," I explain, facing M'gann completely. "Two of the chief leaders are, as most people around you will call them, Zeus and Hera, King and Queen of Mount Olympus. None of the Grecian deities are particularly nice by Earthly mortal designations but if you consider them to be more aware of Earthly mortal morality and their actions to be affected as such, then this comparison may make more sense."

M'gann nods eagerly.

"There is a God called Uranus. He is, essentially, Sky. He watches over everything. He is said to be, along with Gaia – Earth – and deities like Pontus, Eros, Nyx, Thalassa, Chronos, Hemera, etcetera, one of the Protogenoi, the basic components, of the planet. Annex could be considered to be Uranus. His younger brother, the Prince, could be considered to be Zeus. A little more volatile, younger, but still quite mighty, strong, and of royal blood. Annex's wife, Anassa – Queen – Mera, would be Gaia in this situation, while the Advisors would be the siblings of Zeus. The closest family members of Uranus and Gaia, not necessarily the Protogenoi, could be representative of the leaders of the major city-states. They are close to being of equal strength to Uranus and Gaea, but not there yet." I pause, frowning, "Well, the power and status differences are not quite exact through this comparison but…it will work for now."

"Then what deity are you?"

"I suppose I could be related most closely to, in terms of role but most definitely not in terms of power, Athena the Goddess of War, Crafts, Heroic Endeavour and Wisdom. Many pray, or prayed, to her for genius, strength, and heroism."

"So she was a Goddess independent of Zeus and Hera and the Protogenoi?"

"Effectively, yes. She was a Goddess many wanted on their side. She proved her might the day she was born."

"How?"

"She sprung fully-grown and armoured from Zeus' skull."

M'gann chuckles, "That's impressive."

"She _is_ impressive."

* * *

**A/N: **So. I fail at updating regularly. Completely fail. …Little bit of stuff about Atlantis and its governance, and some Greek mythology for ya'll there, which I happen to be rather fond of, for more than one reason. I just casually look into Greek mythology so excuse any major errors.

Go ahead and imagine what Wally and Robin did to "educate" Superboy on the "fine art of celebration". I don't plan on filling that in.

**R&R**


	16. Sha'lain'a 5

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, and Kung Fu Hustle, are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): violence, coarse language, breaking & entering, theft, sexual themes (ie: very very minor smut) at end of chapter (skip the last bit after Sha'lain'a says "Later" if you want to avoid it)**_

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_**Note: You may want to read my oneshot, **_**Blood Kin, **_**before reading this chapter (or after, if you're unsatisfied with Sean's story). You'll get some additional information. Also, vampires and aliens.**_

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**Maelstrom**

**Sha'lain'a**

"_I'm pretty, but I'm not beautiful. I sin, but I'm not the devil. I'm good, but I'm not an angel."_

Marilyn Monroe

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**5**

**Shayeris, Atlantis : July 12, 2010 – 08:12 UTC-03**

"I know how difficult it is," I can hear Calvin saying. "It's something you have to just…work with, unfortunately."

Kalladura'ham snorts, "Unfortunately is the correct word."

"You better eat quick. You have to be at HQ at 0900."

I can practically see Kalladura'ham rolling her eyes as she retorts with, "I am _aware, Patera_."

"Okay, okay, I'm just trying to help."

"Apologies, it is appreciated, but I am aware of my commitments."

"Sweetheart, you sleep well?" Calvin asks as I enter the room. He frowns slightly at my hair, which is currently braided. Usually, it is loose. Kalladura'ham and Calvin know that I only braid it when I am expecting a fight.

I nod in answer and peck his lips lightly then turn to Kalladura'ham, "Sleep well?"

I had heard her sneaking in early this morning, around 2 in the morning, like she had yesterday as well. She likely has only gotten a couple hours of sleep, unfortunately.

She glances up at me, her expression not flickering, and sighs in response, "Yes."

I look at Calvin. He nudges Kalla's head with his elbow as he swims past her to grab his lunch. She shoots him an irritated look then explains, "It was nothing, Matim. Just a nightmare."

"About what?" I question, concerned.

"The same thing it always is after a civilian death during a mission."

She has definitely only gotten a couple of hours of sleep then. That also explains her conversation with Calvin.

"I'm sorry Rini," I say, hugging her around the back tightly as she works to try to ignore me and continue eating. I ignore her attempts to ignore me and kiss her lightly on the head before rising and grabbing some food. I kiss and hug Calvin farewell and lightly scold Kalla into hugging her patera goodbye – she is never in a good mood in the morning after a long night and a nightmare, understandably, and she is not the most physically affectionate person in the first place anyway. Once Calvin is gone I begin eating my breakfast and inquire with Kalladura'ham, "Where were you last night?"

"Researching at HQ."

"On what?"

"The most recent mission. I wished to find out more about the individuals we faced."

"I see," I comment, not bothering to voice my disapproval of her staying up till 2 in the morning researching. She knows what I think of that. "Are you doing anything exciting today?"

"Not particularly," she answers with a shrug. "I am working on a report on Shayeris' Headquarters."

"What about?"

"Efficiency and such," she explains vaguely. "It's for the larger annual HQ report, which will be then synthesized and compiled by those working directly for Annex into a document he will have to review and approve."

"Are they looking into making some changes?" I question, slightly surprised by how much she is revealing about her day. Usually I have to make an actual effort in getting her to speak about her day.

"That is the rumour. I have not heard much myself. I believe Prince Orm may be wishing to make some changes." She doesn't look entirely happy about that. Granted, this morning she doesn't look entirely happy about anything.

"Sounds important," I comment, trying not to let my surprise at her wordiness show. "Anything else planned?"

"I will also be completing and submitting the report for the most recent mission, and likely, once Annex reviews it, I will be having a vid-call with him." She rubs the bridge of her nose and drags her fingers under her eyes with a sigh, "That will be interesting."

"He will not blame you, you know that," I say in an effort to provide some comfort.

"I know."

That is not the problem then. It is her conscience that is. There is not much I can do for her then.

I fall silent, aware that she prefers quiet and calm when she is stressed, and if she is _not_ stressed right now then I am a being of heat and flame. She has been stressed since the spill. It has only been compounded by what came directly after it, then Superboy, and the new independence accompanied by the fights with her best surface-friend. She is becoming both more withdrawn and louder.

In other words, she is saying a lot of words that, really, mean nothing. She's overcompensating for a loss of control in her life thanks to all of the changes that have been occurring. She's trying to make herself seem unaffected to ensure that no one is concerned about her, but she's trying too hard, overcompensating, and in the process is missing things that normally she would never miss. That much is easy to see.

I know she will find a balance soon enough and stop trying to overcompensate. In the process she will stop missing things. She missed my braids completely, which is concerning. She hasn't commented on them, she usually does because I only ever braid my hair when I am expecting a fight of some sort and she feels obligated to know of my fights despite the fact that I am her matim, I fight my own fights, and I taught her how to fight before Atlantis and Orin ever came into the picture. Yet, she hasn't even _blinked_ at the sight of the braids. It is disconcerting.

"Take care of yourself," I urge as Kalladura'ham finishes her food and rises.

She nods, distracted, accepts my hug stiffly, and then retreats to her room to grab whatever she needs for the day. Within ten minutes she is out the door and heading to the headquarters of Shayeris' branch of the Atlantean Military.

I grab the tablet she had been fiddling on while eating and log onto _The Aconite Post_.

**Vampire Covens across Western Europe demanding full blood coverage**

Wonderful. With the success that German Coven had the others are being encouraged to seek out coverage for their own. Most of the covens will be well-behaved but I do not wish to be around when the less well-behaved vampires, some associated with a coven and some not, come out.

**Riots in Kolpos still raging as Annex Orin works with Venu'eel to solve health and resource crises**

I have to finish putting together that order from the leader of the city-state in the Gulf, King Venu'eel of Kolpos. It's an order of purifying charms. All the charm-markers in the Atlantic have been called upon to provide purifying charms for those in and around Kolpos, and all of us are steadily running dry. If this continues we will have to call on the rest of Atlantis for help. The toxins are affecting people too quickly.

**Royal Representative Xander says Aqualass "will continue to not be directly involved in Kolpos' recovery"**

I stop and scan that article. I'm glad Orin's decided not to include her in the recovery process, including the negotiations with the surface-dwellers. The negotiations are going to be extremely tenuous, dominantly because any ruler that came before Orin likely would have viewed a spill of this magnitude as an act of aggression if not war. I am certain it was a breach of the contract Kolpos, and Atlantis by extension, had with the surface-dwellers. All of that added to the amount of people involved in this situation the recovery process promises to continue to turn into, in layman's terms, a clusterfuck. I don't want Kalladura'ham anywhere near the negotiations. They will just stress her even more.

It has been months and the area of Kolpos is still a collection of disease and destroyed resources. King Venu'eel has been working constantly with nearby city-states and the ones a little further out – Shayeris included – to get assistance. Shayeris even has a refugee centre for some of the most fragile Gulf survivors now, since the ones in the other city-states are reaching their capacities and the toxins are still managing to seep further out of the Gulf and to the nearest city-states.

Undoubtedly, Kalla will visit the centre in uniform today. I likely will as well, to distribute some charms and help with some of the treatment of those still battling illnesses from the toxins that infected the Gulf. Technically, I'm not trained as a healer, but the healing community in Shayeris know that I am skilled enough to have created and applied artificial channels to my daughter and to make charmed jewellery regularly so most of them trust my healing skills. Plus, they're overworked as it is. Shayeris only has so many medical professionals and healers. They can use all the help they can get.

Come to think of it, I will have to review that packet on the effects of the toxins on the species that lived closest to the spill when it occurred.

I imagine this is what having homework feels like.

Email is next so I log onto Angelia Graphikos and scan the work related emails before pausing to reread an email from anon1908 at Hoot.

oOoOo

**Sender: **anon1908  
**Date: **Sat, 12 July 2010 05:17:22 -0700  
**From: **Jane Khm  
**Organization: **Hoot  
**To: **sla_jc  
**Subject: **I know you won't want to get her involved

S,

May have a problem. Would like your magical expertise and experience. Meet at JC at 9?

Top Bitch coming.

.Gina

* * *

**Junction City, Ontario : July 12, 2010 – 09:16 CDT**

With Calvin taking care of the shop for today I travel to Junction City via the usual Atlantean method. An underwater fast-travel tube created by some specially trained sorcerers, followed by a quick teleportation by a talented friend which puts me squarely in the small transport station in Lake Ontario. I make quick small talk with the Atlantean-Canadian manning the station, get information on the going-ons in the surface around Lake Ontario from the Atlantean-Canadian's teenage daughter then surface via the usual route.

Having put on a high-collared vest before getting into the city itself I don't draw much attention. My webbed hands are in my vest pockets, my braid is not spiked today, and my channels are not visible unless I am using magic. When I enter the café, however, I am immediately recognized. Chevy immediately hops up and hurries over to me.

She hugs me tightly and I return the gesture in kind before she leads me past the guests and her 9-year-old son playing at one of the tables with one of his cousins. He grins at me with two teeth missing. I return the grin with Chevy pulling me through the back room then up the stairs at the rear of the building. We go up to the second floor where herself, her husband, and their son live. I glance at the photographs hanging on the walls of the living room and grimace at the sight of the tall 12-year-old boy in one of the photographs. He would have been 13 now if he had survived the Siren attack last year.

Peeking out from Chevy's collar is the mangled scar tissue across her right shoulder and chest that was a product of her attempting to protect her son. The scars across the right side of her jaw are from the same battle she emailed me about. She's taller than I am and more heavily built with more defined muscles, a larger bust, and broader shoulders. Her dark hair is cropped short, bangs brushing diagonally past her brows and deep-set brown eyes. Her hands are calloused and there are small scars scattered across her body thanks to 24 years of a 37 year life spent protecting the west side of the city. As usual, she's wearing dark eye makeup, purples mostly.

She sits on the loveseat in the small living area beside a gingerly perched boy of about 19, maybe 20, with Gina's cooler at his feet. He has large crimson eyes, a complexion slightly fairer than Chevy's that is as flawless as Gina's, black hair rumpled and pushed back from time spent running quickly without a headcovering, and he's wearing a pair of blue jeans, brown hiking boots, and a Batman t-shirt beneath a fake leather jacket. Sitting in his lap, slightly obscured by the shadows in the room, is a ball cap clutched tightly in his gloved hands. His nose is twitching, sniffing.

Standing by the window that looks out to the alley is Gina. She looks like she always does, just in a pair of jeans, a too-small tank top, buckled boots, her usual gloves, and her usual spiked leather jacket. Her hair is peroxide blonde today and when I look over to her she gestures with a sharp nail to the boy, "That's Sean. Sean, this is Sha'lain'a."

He looks nervous, poor boy. I smile at him, working to make him at ease, "It's a pleasure to meet you Sean. You can call me Sha'lain if you want."

He nods sharply, "Yes ma'am."

He swallows.

Gina explains, "His family was attacked. We saved them."

"We don't know by what though," Chevy adds. I notice she's not making any effort to touch Sean, to squeeze his knee or anything. He must still be adjusting, either to being a vampire or to the attack on his family.

"Was anyone hurt?" I ask.

"His dad, but it was minor," Gina says, "plus the typical shock from finding out that their missing son was a vampire shortly after being attacked in their home."

I glance at Sean, "When were you turned?"

"Few weeks ago," he answers. After a pause, he amends, "June 30th."

That was a more expected answer. I had yet to meet a vampire who didn't remember the exact date they were turned. It was just something a person never forgot.

"That's impressive that you managed to protect your family so soon after that," I comment.

Sean silently looks at the floor. I can practically smell his fear. The boy is terrified, either of what he is now or of what is happening to his family, I don't know. Maybe he's scared of us.

I look at Gina, "So…what do you need me for?"

"Sean," Gina says, standing.

Sean picks up the cooler from beside the loveseat and hands it to Gina. He quickly pushes himself back on the loveseat as Gina sets the cooler down in front of me. When she opens it up a sharp odour that I recognize as that coming from something dead immediately fills the room.

Chevy turns green and promptly covers her nose and mouth with the collar of her t-shirt as she swears, "Jesus Christ, Gina. You aren't the only one here with supersmell."

I look into the cooler, grimacing, my collar pulled over my nose, mouth, and gills. Inside the cooler is a small creature that I can honestly say I have never seen before. It's more yellow than green, with a large head, odd little protrusions from its chin, and it measures from toes to top of head at about 2 feet. It seems to be completely hairless with horns protruding from its skull, and a pronounced brow. It appears to be bipedal, has four fingers, large forearms, pointed ears, and two toes. I've never seen anything like it before. In terms of size, maybe a Hob, but even that's a stretch.

"What is it?" I question, trying to ignore the stench.

"A team of these creatures attacked Dr. Dashti – Sean's father," Gina explains, shutting the cooler.

"That is disgusting," Chevy comments.

I nod in agreement, "A little warning next time would be nice."

"No. I refuse to let her bring another corpse into my house," Chevy snaps. "There will be no next time."

"Fair enough," Gina remarks. She sits on the cooler and looks expectantly at me, "So you haven't seen anything like this before?"

I shake my head, "No."

"Do you know anyone who might have?"

"There are many creatures in Atlantis," I explain slowly, mulling over my words, "and I do not know them all but…Mera may know of more. If you want to let her and Orin know, that is."

"I don't think it's an underwater creature," Chevy says. "No gills."

"Not all Atlanteans have gills," I point out.

Chevy frowns, leaning forward, "Well, that makes this difficult." She glances at Sean, "Any idea why a team of those guys were attacking your dad?"

Sean shrugs, "I don't know. Everybody likes Dad. I…I don't know."

"He's a doctor?" Chevy inquires.

"Biomedicine type stuff," Sean quickly clarifies. "He works for STAR Labs in their medical tech research...thing...division."

"Doing what?"

"Biomedicine stuff, I guess. He doesn't really talk about it. It's classified or something."

Chevy nods and looks pointedly at Gina and I. I sigh, "I wasn't planning on doing this stuff again."

"You don't need to. I can do it myself," Gina says.

Sean looks between the three of us, confused, "What are you talking about?"

"Sean, can you get your Dad's access card or codes?" Chevy asks abruptly.

"What? Wait," Sean looks, alarmed, between the three of us, "you want to break into STAR Labs?"

"If his work is as classified as you say it is then it's unlikely he'll tell us much," Gina says. "It's not as if he knows any of us."

"Well I could ask!"

"He's your Dad. If he thinks it'll put you in danger he won't say anything," I explain. "Vampire or not, he's going to protect you."

"Well, how would you even break in? I mean, Gina probably does, but do you two even know how to do this?" he looks at Chevy and I pointedly. I'm almost insulted. How old do I look?

"Sean," Chevy lays a hand on his shoulder and looks at him seriously, "I know that Sha'lain'a looks like a thirty-something Beyoncé and I look like a hockey mom who got into one too many fights with other hockey moms, but trust us, we are just as capable as Gina is. We do have lives beyond our teenage children you know. We aren't only mothers."

* * *

**STAR Labs, Star City, California : July 19, 2010 – 23:56 PDT**

"You just suggested this because you were bored, didn't you?" I accuse Chevy softly as we wait in the shadows for Gina to finish her job.

"Not true," Chevy retorts, smirking. "Boy needs help, and if you haven't seen anything like that creature, and I haven't, and _Gina_ hasn't, that's already weird, then, just to make this even weirder, Dashti got really nervous when we tried to get him to tell us about what he's been working on. Don't tell me that you don't think something weird is going on. This is weird."

"Should've told Aquaman," I mutter, crouching.

"And get the League involved in the whole vampires, skinshifters, and were-creatures thing?" Chevy snorts, "I don't think so. You really think the League will approve of vampires killing whomever they so please? And of skinshifters taking care of the changes of what they'd call metahumans AKA were-creatures into their own hands?"

"I am aware of the moral and ethical issues that arise around vampires, even those who try to target only those individuals that would benefit the gene pool by being removed from it," I retort. "It is simply an option that I do not think we gave enough consideration to. Aquaman can keep a secret, and he knows about vampires and were-creatures. He simply chooses not to speak of them to the League. He knows that your societies are good at dealing with your issues internally and need a superhero about as much as he needs another title."

"Does he need another title?"

"No."

"Face it Sha'lain, you missed this type of stuff."

"I really did not. I am quite happy being an entrepreneur."

"Who made jewellery for a criminal for free."

"It was a thank-you. Kalla requested it."

"You miss fighting then."

"Not as much as you seem to think. I do still spar with people."

"Well you're here, Sha'lain, and we didn't force you to come here," Chevy points out. "You're a grown-ass woman, you didn't have to come here. You obviously came for a reason. I just want to know what it is."

I smirk, "Curiosity."

"Good thing you're not a cat."

"If I was, I would have died years ago."

"Done gossiping kids?" Gina questions. "Cameras are on loops. We were right, looks like the best route is from the top."

"Lead the way," Chevy offers.

Gina immediately scurries up the side of the building, spiderlike. Chevy and I follow with leaps. We roll as we hit the roof, blanketing the soft noise we made with the rest of our bodies.

Gina moves first, darting across the roof and onto the next one as I monitor where the Arrows are. It would be awkward trying to explain to them why Aqualass' mother is sneaking around STAR Labs. Then breaking into them. With a vampire and a skinshifter.

Some confrontations are just better left to the imagination.

With Gina taking out the security on the roof quicker than they have a chance of keeping up, Chevy and I move toward the door in the roof. Chevy covers me as I crouch in front of the door and use the kit stored in my suit – basically a dark one-piece bathing suit modified as per Atlantean standards – to pick the lock.

"I think you've gotten slower," Gina comments as she walks up to us.

"Hush you," I retort. "It's a challenging lock and I haven't done this in awhile."

"How many years we talking?" Chevy asks.

"Nearly 8," I answer.

Chevy frowns down at me, "You can pick it right?"

"What's that expression? Like riding a horse?"

"Bike, actually."

"Well it's like that. Difficult to forget. I _was_ doing it for longer then 8 years before. See?" I stand and push the door open.

Chevy sniffs the air, "Better move quickly. I can smell them getting anxious."

We get past the next door with Dr. Dashti's access card – taken with some help from Sean, they would be returned by Gina – and move silently down the hallways until we reach his office. Chevy promptly moves to the filing cabinets as I move to the computer. I log onto the system using Dashti's codes, plug in the tech I was using for copying the system, and skim through his files, searching for some understanding as to why he would be targeted by anyone, much less some creature none of us knew the species of.

"We good Gina?" Chevy questions.

"Yeah. Cameras are still on loop," Gina answers, leaning against the closed door. "Anything Sha'lain?"

"Maybe," I say, frowning at the screen. "This is similar to some of David's early work."

"As in the killing stuff or-"

"As in biomedical stuff," I cut Chevy off. "The brain – well, neuroscience, is mentioned."

"Fits with the stuff in here," Chevy confirms, holding up a couple files. "When did David do biomedical stuff?"

"When we met he was reading a text on biomedicine. There is also my husband, born Human and currently living as an Atlantean. David dabbled in basically everything though." I pause, scanning Dashti's emails, "Dashti's emailed a few people for collaboration on some project he doesn't actually have named in here. Some people in the US, someone named Roquette, a guy in Qurac, another in the UK…this is a big project."

"How big?" asks Gina.

"Not sure. He's encrypted a lot of it. Calvin could decrypt it. We don't have the time."

"Copy it."

I nod, glancing at the part of the project that wasn't encrypted, "It seems to be the beginnings of a program meant to facilitate the use of something else."

"What else?"

"Magic is mentioned."

"A scientist making tech for the biomedical field mentioned magic."

"Yeah."

Now I am really intrigued. Any and all reservations I may have had before about breaking and entering again are now gone. This is far too interesting.

"Huh. That's not something you say everyday," Gina comments.

"There are a lot of emails with a neuroscientist named Cliff Caulder," I add. "Caulder isn't very happy with Dashti. This might explain the attack."

"We'll go through it later," Gina decides. "Let's go."

I agree, rising, taking the portable drive with me.

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : July 20, 2010 – 03:48 UTC-03**

"Matim?"

I turn and smile at Kalladura'ham, "I thought you would be in bed."

"Where were you?" she questions, concern creasing her face. "Your hair is braided."

She noticed.

"Are you feeling better?" I question.

"I suppose the night spent at Roy's did help," she admits with a shrug. "It reminded me of the times when we had movie marathons and refused to go to sleep. M'gann seems as though she will be a good friend."

"That's good."

"Where were you?"

"Out with friends."

"With a braid?"

"You know Gina," I shrug. "Everything's fine, Kalladura'ham, I promise."

She shouldn't be worried about me. It's supposed to be the other way around.

She looks reluctant to drop it, but nods, "Okay. I'm going to go back to sleep."

"Okay sweetheart," I hug her tightly and she swims away. I head quickly for the room I share with Calvin.

He is, unsurprisingly, awake. He simply looks at me, questioning.

"Later," I request, kissing him lightly.

He exhales, nodding as he drags his fingers down my throat then across the edges of my gills. His hands travel up, brushing across my hairline and down to the nape of my neck where I began to attach the spikes to my braid. He avoids the spikes with practiced precision and presses his mouth against my own in a familiar embrace.

I roll, straddling him, pressing my body against his as his fingers continue to dance down my spiked braid. He grabs the end of my braid and undoes it as I slide my mouth down, pressing it against his jaw and dragging it down his throat. His fingers pause, tightening in my hair as I suck lightly at the edges of his artificial gills where the skin is the most sensitive thanks to the procedure. He inhales sharply, drawing a smirk from me.

As I move down he follows the line of spikes through my hair, deftly untangling my hair from its confines until he reaches the nape of my neck where I attach the line of spikes to my hair. He undoes the quick knot that keeps the spikes in place and pulls the line of spikes away. I take the spikes from him as he grabs the back of my suit and begins to undo it.

I roll the spikes up and break contact for a moment as I place them in their storage space with all of my other accessories. He, of all things, pouts at me when I return.

I roll my eyes and peel off the suit.

He traces my hips with his gaze, remarking bluntly, "I'm never going to stop finding you the most attractive person on the planet, will I?"

"I can relate," I remark, straddling him, unable to stop grinning. I lean over so my mouth is by his ear, "And chances are low that that will ever change."

He chuckles into my hair.

* * *

**A/N: **Oh thank god, I finally got in more on the Gulf. Been trying to do that for ages. This has just been a huge relief chapter in general for me, although I am admittedly not fond of all of the dialogue. Nevertheless, a lot of stuff off the table now and a more concrete b-story for Sha'lain'a. Thank god.

For the fast-travel tube I keep thinking about those things that Poseidon makes in _Class of the Titans_, simply with water inside the tube instead of air that Theresa can breathe.

Also, comics and their TV/Film offshoots need a greater variety of mothers in general.

In case it wasn't obvious, "Top Bitch" refers to Chevy and her skinshifter self.

**Guest: Thanks for reviewing! I decided to make Kalla bisexual because my headcanon is that Kaldur is bi as well and I'm trying to make Kalla (at least initially) as similar to Kaldur as is possible in this verse with logical changes along the way. I'm glad you'll read it when you have the time! Thanks!**

**R&R**


	17. Kalladura'ham 12

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, and "Booty Man" by Tim Wilson are not owned by me. I merely own the plot and unfamiliar characters/organizations and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 104: Drop Zone._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, booty**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_He that cannot obey, cannot command."_

Benjamin Franklin

* * *

**12**

**Caribbean Sea : July 22, 2010 – 20: 06 ECT**

The mission is simple. It is reconnaissance of an island called Santa Prisca where a strength-enhancing drug – Venom – is being produced. All shipments were cut-off for an unknown reason. If the odd cut-off was due to Atlantean involvement I would have heard of it, so I immediately dismiss that idea. There is something else at work here.

The Team is to do what is usually required during recon missions. Observe, report, wait for further instructions. Batman gave us the plan with two drop zones. I would enter through Drop Zone A and take out the security systems by entering the island through the underwater route – most surface-world organizations do not plan security in case of an approach underwater, even those surrounded by water, so we intend to use that to our advantage. Drop Zone B is for the rest of the Team, further inland after I take out the security systems.

I have been anxious about this mission since we first received it. Not for anything pertaining directly to the mission parameters, no, those are simple and routine. What I am concerned about is the fact that no one is in charge. Batman did not name a field leader. We are apparently expected to figure that out for ourselves. I am all for the independence of this team but it is almost as if Batman is completely unaware of the terrible things that have happened likely partially due to us not naming a field leader before the mission.

Selena comes to mind.

As does Mister Twister.

This will not end well.

"Drop Zone A in thirty," says Miss Martian.

I stand and my seat melts into the floor. I click my belt and the red on my uniform turns a dark grey, much more appropriate for a stealth mission. The uniform upgrades, courtesy of the League and some Atlantean tech, were provided to myself and Kid Flash. Robin, apparently, did not require any stealth upgrades despite the bright red and yellow on his uniform – I suppose being trained by Batman, the Master of Stealth, has something to do with it. Superboy refuses to wear a classic uniform, citing that he hates capes and tights. I think he just doesn't want to be connected to Superman anymore than he already is, he did admit, after all, to having thoughts of destroying Superman as a by-product of the Cadmus conditioning. Miss Martian does not require such upgrades for…obvious reasons.

"Ready," I state.

"Putting Bio-Ship in camouflage mode," Miss Martian reports.

A moment later the floor opens up in front of me. I dive out of it and enter the sea nearly soundlessly, my goal singular. I slice through the water, ducking past underwater mines – I hate those things – and slicing through the net meant to keep most sea life out. I dart onto the coast, the sand sticking to my feet, and pull out the sensor patch device Batman provided for us, which I hooked to the bottom of my waterpack. I duck by the control box for the heat and motion sensors, quickly attach the device, wait for the small light on it to turn red, then report via our com-links, "Heat and motion sensors are patched. Data is now on a continuous loop. Move in."

As soon as I receive their confirmation of my word I dart into the forest, using the small Atlantean device outfitted to be completely compatible with League tech to double-check that I'm heading in the right direction to meet up with the team. The device returns to the small compartment at the bottom of my water-pack, between my shoulder blades, as soon as I confirm it.

I take a leap once I reach the small mountain on the island and cut down my climbing time by at least ten seconds. I don't stop, well aware that I have to move quickly.

The chatter occurring over the com-links is not something I am accustomed to. It is mainly,Miss Martian awkwardly trying to recover from complimenting Superboy in a way he completely misunderstood, Kid Flash commenting on Superboy's lack of tights, and then Robin commenting on Superboy's disuse of a line to land silently on the ground and instead create a small crater on the island, but I am, nevertheless, not fond of it. Partially because I am not accustomed to it, and partially because it is definitely not covert. If the team and I in Tritonis had spoken like that while doing recon on the tunnels around Tritonis to flush out Hen'aaa we would have been slaughtered.

::: Aqualass, Drop B is Go. ::: Miss Martian reports.

"Head for the factory," I advise, stopping momentarily as I find myself without an easy-to-reach handhold. "I'll track your GPS and rendezvous ASAP."

I find the handhold as Robin confirms the plan – thank goodness – and we fall silent for a few minutes. Soon I am pausing to check their location when Miss Martian compliments Superboy's ears after he comments on some noise no one else heard.

::: Okay Rob, now what? ::: questions Kid Flash. ::: Man, I hate it when he does that. :::

He ran off again, didn't he? Why would he…oh. Of course.

"Superboy, Kid, switch to infrared. See if you're being tracked," I say, leaping over a fallen tree. That would be the only reason for Robin's disappearance without alerting the Team, surely.

::: Got a squad of armed bozos incoming. ::: reports Kid.

::: Two squads, ::: Superboy clarifies. ::: But they'll meet each other before they meet us. :::

_CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK._

"Swing wide, steer clear," I advise sharply, internally grimacing at the sounds of the guns by the team where I cannot help them immediately.

::: Yeah yeah, just as soon as I find Rob, ::: says Kid Flash.

Please do not.

::: Whup, waaaahhhh! ::: Kid Flash screams. There's a pause then he continues in a normal tone, ::: So much for stealthy. :::

I knew this would be bad.

It takes seconds before I hear the sounds of a skirmish. I check their GPS again and take a right, the sounds of the skirmish growing louder. I can hear men getting hit and then Robin shouting in exasperation about no one else knowing about the plan and vanishing into the jungle. Logically, Kid Flash points out that no one else knew the plan.

I spot an enemy running towards the team, not seeing me in the darkness of the jungle when he passes me. I flip up into the trees, silently thank a few tree-climbing contests with Pansy when we were kids, and leap off the tree, past another, and land at the base of a third. I roll forward, electricity surging up my left arm as I snap it up and grab the man by the throat. He reels backward, the electricity taking him down as quickly as my hand around his throat. He's unconscious on the ground in an instant and I crush his weapon under my foot.

"Restrain them," I order, turning and becoming mildly irritated by the fact that none of them have bothered to even start restraining them. Even after the skirmish this is still a completely routine mission! Why are they not abiding by said routine? This is the most basic of the basic in Atlantis. Is that not the case here?

It takes a few minutes to restrain all of them then we wind up staring at them, studying their uniforms and weapons, trying to figure out who they are. I vaguely recognize the attire of the ones in the cloaks. The ones in more…normal surface attire are less recognizable, men you would pass on the street without taking a second glance. Their leader, however, would be easy to recognize with the mask. It's a wrestling mask, I think. The weapons aren't particularly noteworthy though, except for a few of the blades the cloaked ones have.

"I recognize those uniforms," Robin says, "they belong to the Cult of the Kobra."

Cult of the Kobra, oh Poseidon, that's _wonderful_.

I frown, looking at Robin, "I am certain Batman would have mentioned it if he knew a dangerous extremist was running Santa Prisca's Venom operation."

"Agreed," Robin nods. "And since there's clearly no love lost between the Cultists and those goons I'm betting Kobra came in to toss them out. _That's_ why normal supply lines have been cut-off."

"We get it, Kobra wanted super Cultists. Mystery solved," says Kid Flash. He turns to me, "Radio Bats and we'll be home in time for-"

"These Cultists aren't on Venom," protests Robin. "Kobra's hoarding the stuff! We don't leave, not until I know why."

"Until _you_ know why?" questions Kid Flash.

"This team needs a leader," Robin retorts.

"And it's you? Dude, you're a thirteen-year-old kid, who ducked out on us without a word."

Robin laughs, "And you're a mature fifteen? You blew our cover first chance you got!"

I frown, glancing at the Cultists as Kid Flash and Robin argue. They certainly are not on Venom. That much is obvious. There is the question of why Kobra wants Venom, as Robin mentioned. There's also the question as to how the others survived as long as they have, with the Cultists here.

The standard procedure for a recon mission is adjusted the instant new information arises. This is new information. We still have the original goal but now we have a more concrete direction to move in. If the Cultists are here and taking the Venom, who is the buyer? Is it truly simply that the Cultists are taking the Venom? Or are they providing it for someone else? If the Cultists are here then where are the rest of the people who are usually here dealing with the Venom? The amount of men here before us, tied up, are not enough to run an operation this large. Why is one man wearing a mask?

Our recon direction needs to change slightly with these men here. Cultists will be all over the place so we will need a more covert way in than what was originally planned.

Get in. Find out what is going on. Get out.

The masked man sniggers, "Such clever _ni__ñ__os_, but you only know have the story, let me show you the rest. Get you into the factory, via my secret entrance."

Miss Martian crouches in front of him, her eyes glowing white, "There _is_ a secret entrance but he's also hiding something."

"Ah ah ah _chica_," he says. "Bane is not that easy."

Miss Martian frowns and cuts the link, "Ugh, he's mentally reciting football scores _en Espa__ñ__ol_." She looks back at us, "This could take a while."

"It's not complicated," Bane remarks, smirking. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

I am unconvinced, but we need that entrance. I nod.

Twenty minutes later we are above the helicopter landing pad and factory, looking down on the activity. Robin remarks, "A buy is going down, but if Kobra's not selling to the usual suspects then-"

"We need to identify that buyer," I confirm

"Just what I was thinking," says Kid Flash.

Robin chuckles sarcastically, "Yeah, you're the thinker."

"Sarcasm? Dude, a real leader would focus on getting answers."

Bane walks past us and knocks aside a boulder resting against the rock wall beside the factory. Behind the boulder is a faintly lit tunnel he gets us to follow him into. I head into the tunnel alongside Miss Martian, bringing up the rear.

My gut is churning around Bane, telling me not to trust him. I glance at Miss Martian, hoping to find some sort of confirmation of my gut's feeling. Her eyes flick to me subtly. Wordlessly, I tap my left temple. The others, Bane included, don't notice, being ahead of us.

I feel the telepathic link being established and she remarks through it, _::: Do you want the guys in the link? :::_

_::: No. Not yet. I do not wish to startle them and alert Bane. :::_

_::: You don't trust him. :::_

_::: He wants his factory back and I am certain he realizes that even if he gets his factory back we will simply be notifying the League of him, his partners, and this tunnel at the end. He will no longer have this factory or Santa Prisca if we contact the League. Your opinion? :::_

_::: I don't like him. :::_

_::: We should keep an eye on him. :::_

_::: Understood. :::_

The telepathic link is broken as Bane opens the door to the factory via a thumbprint scanner. Once Robin gives the 'all clear' we move into the factory. Within a matter of seconds Robin is gone.

"Has that little fool already been caught?" questions Bane sharply.

"No," I answer with an ill-concealed sigh, "he just does that."

"Right, stay put," Kid Flash says, pulling on his goggles, "I'll get our intel and be back before the Boy Wonder."

"Wait, Kid-" I stop the instant Kid Flash is around the corner.

"Great chain of command," Bane comments drily.

I share a look of exasperation with Superboy and Miss Martian. At least they do not run off.

"Let's go," I order, the only one now in the group with the experience necessary to command this mission.

With some assistance from Bane I lead the other two to the main section of the factory where we position ourselves behind some of the crates of older Venom, out of view of the Cultists working. They are loading up newer Venom, a massive amount, at least thirty crates,

"Helicopter's coming," Superboy says suddenly, looking out of the factory to the sky.

I nod and turn to Miss Martian, "That is likely the buyer. Fly out there in camouflage mode then telepathically transmit an image of the buyer to me. We will go high," I gesture to the catwalk above us.

Miss Martian nods and before our eyes turns into little more than a shimmer against the crates. I feel her take off and once the coast is clear I lead Superboy and Bane to a point where we can climb up to the catwalk while making little noise. Being high will give us an advantage should this come to a fight due to extraneous circumstances. It will also afford us some time should the buyer or the Cultists choose to start loading up some of the old Venom.

_::: Telepathic link established, ::: _reports Miss Martian. _::: Kobra's out here, along with the Cultists and two others not in cloaks. I don't recognize them. :::_

_::: Show me, ::: _I request.

_::: Transmitting an image. :::_

There is a young woman, a couple of years older than myself presumably, who is tall and slim. She is pale with red hair shaved on the right side of her head to leave room for a very distinctive snake facial and head tattoo on the right side of her skull. I recognize her, vaguely, although her name isn't coming to me. She isn't one of the leaders then. One of Kobra's subordinates, although, the fact that she is standing beside him suggests that she is a rather elite subordinate. His right-hand, likely. I will have to look at my files again to recall her name. Or ask Robin.

The male is almost like Blockbuster, simply…larger and with what seems to be exposed muscle where the skin tore irreparably during his transformation. He has the same shade of hair as the woman. I do not recognize him at all. Presumably though, I would recognize the person he looked like before the transformation that left him Blockbuster-like.

_::: Aqualass, the guy was changed by the Kobra-Venom. Sending you a telepathic image of the buyer now. :::_

I frown at the sight that greets me. It's of a man in his mid-fifties wearing a grey hockey mask. He's blonde, fair skinned, brown-eyed, fit, and armed. Birth name was Lawrence Crock. He's one of the most dangerous human criminals on the planet. I have not faced him myself but I have seen the few recordings of his fights. He is skilled, to say the least.

"Sportsmaster? He is the buyer?" I bite my lower lip and press my fingers to my com-link, questioning, "Aqualass to Red Tornado, do you read?" Nothing. I try Robin and Kid Flash. Nothing.

I grit my teeth and explain upon seeing Superboy's questioning look, "Can't reach the League, Robin, or Kid. Com's jammed. We need a plan, now."

"I have a suggestion," says Bane.

I turn in time to see Bane leap off the rear of the catwalk and attack the nearest Cultist, unleashing a hail of gunfire.

"What is he-"

"RAAAGH!"

Superboy and I whirl around to see the Kobra-Venom creature crashing through the front top windows and heading straight for us. Superboy and I separate immediately and leap as the Kobra-Venom creature collides with the catwalk, sending it crashing to the ground. I hit the ground and promptly pull out my water-bearers, forming a shield to block the shots

"Destroy them!" Kobra shouts, prompting the Kobra-Venom creature to dart forward. Superboy blocks him while the rest of the Cultists, quickly seeing that their shots have no effect on Superboy, concentrate their fire on me.

I press my free water-bearer to my shield and start sending off shots of mystically-charged water, similar to the bullets they used simply with less clean-up involved.

Miss Martian enters the battle by telekinetically throwing two of the Cultists shooting at me across the room.

We cannot remain here, I know that. But we cannot leave until we have Robin and Kid with us.

Sportsmaster throws a javelin into the air. It explodes when it reaches its peak and Miss Martian crashes onto the one of the covered vats on the opposite side of the factory, reappearing with the hit. Apparently Sportsmaster can spot Martian camouflage. Wonderful.

I move back until I can take shelter behind one of the vats. I turn to the rear and immediately have one of my water-bearers up and ready to block the Cultist shots from those behind the vat when Kid Flash comes out of nowhere and runs into both of them. He moves to try and get onto the catwalk around the edge of the interior of the building but is promptly shot at so adjusts his course so he is hiding behind a pillar. I barely restrain a sigh and try the com-link again.

I shout, "Miss Martian, radio is jammed! Link us up!"

The tingle passes and she questions sharply, _::: Everyone online? :::_

Superboy grunts, _::: Yeah. :::_

_::: You know it, Beautiful, ::: _Kid Flash, obviously. I ignore him.

_::: Good. We need to regroup, ::: _I say, unwilling to let this mission turn into another Selena fiasco.

_::: Busy now, ::: _Robin, the irritating little brother I never wanted.

We will need to retreat back to the tunnel. If we take out the support beams behind us then the Cultists will be unable to follow, giving us an advantage. The only problem is actually getting through the Cultists and to the tunnel.

I scan the Cultist forces quickly, noting their movements. They are trained well. They will continue to advance towards us, try to box us in. Therefore, we will need to disrupt their organization. I know of two boys who effectively disrupts any organization I attempt to have, one of whom does so quicker than anyone else I have ever met.

I snap, _::: Robin. Now! :::_

_::: Fine. :::_

I roll out from behind the vat and twist, bringing around a whip of water as I get back to my feet. The water takes out the four Cultists trying to box me in and I bring up another shield. I order the one sure organization disruptor to do what he does best, _::: Kid, clear a path. :::_

There's a rush of air beside me as Kid Flash darts past me, running against and across the four Cultists moving to try and advance on myself and Kid. I follow Kid Flash. Miss Martian flies past me as I explain, hoping that will get Superboy to finish his fight with Kobra-Venom Creature quicker, _::: Strategic retreat. The tunnel. :::_

Robin swings behind me the instant before I turn into the tunnel. I pause for an instant, long enough for Superboy to trip Kobra-Venom Creature into some Cultists and sprint into the tunnel. He shuts the door behind him as we sprint after the others.

Behind us, the door is broken in courtesy of big, tall, and massive. I shout, "Superboy, the support beams!"

I punch through the beam on my side and he promptly punches through the beam on his. We dive-roll out of the way of the collapsing tunnel.

I roll to my feet and turn as the tunnel settles and the others stop running. Robin breaks a glowstick and drops it on the ground, staring at the collapsed tunnel, "How could my first mission as leader go so wrong?"

He was leader?

"You do have the most experience," I admit. _With Batman._ "But that may be exactly what has left you unprepared." _For working with people besides Batman._ "When you fight alongside Batman your roles are prescribed…defined. You do not need to talk." It took months before Aquaman and myself managed to reach that level of cooperation.

"This team is new though," I continue to explain, "and a leader must be clear. Explicit." As was the case in Tritonis, or in virtually any group project in the Conservatory.

I consciously keep my hands away from my hips, and my arms from crossing over my chest, doubting that such body language would help make Robin see my point. He would likely just grow defensive. I explain, forcing my body into the military stance, "He cannot vanish and expect others to play parts in an unknown plan."

"Oh, so I'm supposed to hold everyone's hands?!" Robin shouts.

I exhale heavily.

"Oh, who am I kidding?" Robin mutters. He looks up at me, "You should lead us Kalla. You're the only one who can."

"_Please! _I could run circles around-"

Robin cuts Kid Flash off sharply, "C'mon Wally, you know she's the one. We all do."

"Hello Megan!" Miss Martian grins, turning to me. "It's so obvious!"

Superboy cocks his head at me, the corners of his mouth twitching, "Could've told ya."

I look at Kid Flash. He glances at the others then back at me. He nods, "Okay."

Just because I was frustrated with how the team was operating did not mean I wished to _lead_ it!

I…I have led small Atlantean teams but there was always someone else there trained specifically to lead. That person would have belied my orders were they to be incorrect.

I suppose in this situation that individual would be Batman, he would simply be…less reachable. I would be Field Leader then, I suppose.

I have to be the leader, don't I? I'm the only one with that training. I'm the only one here with that training _and_ sufficient experience as a protégé. I am not impulsive as Kid Flash is, nor am I as young as Robin. It has to be me, doesn't it?

Oh Poseidon.

Uncertain, but refusing to show that, I focus on Robin, "Then, I accept the burden. Until you are ready to lift it from my shoulders. You were born to lead this team." Please, please, please. "Maybe not now, but soon."

Preferably before I wind up leading someone to their death thanks to being a 16-year-old kid leading a team of mismatched superpowered teenagers facing off against extremely skilled, talented, and powerful supervillains who really do not care if they kill a bunch of kids.

Maybe next week.

Oh Poseidon.

Focus Kalla.

"Alright," I turn to the rest of the team, "our priority is preventing that shipment from leaving the island."

So long recon-only mission.

Batman is going to kill me.

"We will have 5 primary targets besides the shipment itself," I outline. "Kobra, his right-hand-"

"Shimmer," Robin cuts in. "And the big guy there on Kobra-Venom, that's her twin, Mammoth. He was given the Blockbuster-Venom formula."

"Blockbuster-Venom?" I repeat, surprised.

"Yeah, they managed to combine the Blockbuster formula with Venom, according to the computers Rob and I found," Kid Flash confirms. "Makes the transformation better and permanent."

"And Sportsmaster is buying this?" I frown, unable to figure out _why_. "How-"

"Did he get Kobra to do his dirty work?" Robin finishes. "No idea. Don't know how he's supplying the Blockbuster stuff either."

"Neither of them have the chops to bind Blockbuster with Venom either," Kid Flash adds.

"So there is a third party," I assume. "Our priority remains preventing that shipment from leaving the island. Our 5 primaries besides the shipment itself will remain Kobra, Shimmer, Mammoth, Sportsmaster, and possibly Bane."

"So dude definitely is double-crossing us," Kid Flash says.

"I believe that is a wise assumption," I nod.

"He was talking to one of his goons earlier, when they were tied up," Superboy mentions. "He said that he was going to wait for us to give him what he wanted – Santa Prisca, probably – and then he was gonna get rid of us."

"You know Spanish?" I question.

Superboy shrugs.

"If we meet up with Bane we do not reveal that we know his intentions," I say. "We take advantage of his lack of knowledge and take him out immediately. If my assumptions about Bane are correct then we will meet him shortly outside of the tunnel. We will deal with him first. Robin and Miss Martian will do a quick birds-eye review of the positions of our primaries and major Cultist forces afterwards. Then, we will make some changes."

I look to Robin, "Can you take out Shimmer quickly?"

"Yeah, no prob."

"Do that, then occupy Kobra's attention. You do not have to beat him. Just keep him busy." I look at Superboy, "You will go for Mammoth initially, and then you will change targets once he is focused on you. I will then take out Mammoth with some of the seawater while you go to your new target, Sportsmaster. Kid Flash, you will occupy the Cultists. Take away their weapons, trip them up, be an irritant." I focus on Miss Martian, "While we are occupying their attention you will go in camouflage mode to sabotage the helicopter, where most of the shipment will be. But be careful. Sportsmaster spotted you once while in camouflage, he can do it again."

I step away, "We will do round-up as we did with the two squads before."

"Sounds good," Kid Flash nods. "So let's go beat up Bane."

When we reach the end of the tunnel there is, unsurprisingly, Bane blocking our path by taking advantage of his sheer size – he is a large man. He smirks at us and drops a couple explosives. Looking above us confirms that there are more explosives at the top of the tunnel. He is holding in his right hand the trigger for the explosives.

"Halt, _ni__ños_. I'm feeling, _explosive_."

I feign surprise as Miss Martian establishes a telepathic link, "You betrayed us! Why?" Telepathically, I add, _::: Kid, you'll need a running start. :::_

"I want my factory back," Bane explains as out of the corner of my eye I see Kid Flash take a couple slow steps back. "So I forced you into a situation where you would either take down my enemy or die trying. If the latter, the Justice League would certainly have come to avenge their sidekicks, and when the smoke cleared, Santa Prisca would be mine once more." He holds up the trigger, "Blowing the tunnel with you inside should have the same effect."

A blur rushes past him and he presses his thumb down. His eyes widen in surprise.

"With what? This trigger thingy?" Kid Flash mocks, waving the trigger in front of him.

_::: Miss Martian, Superboy, if you would like to do the honours. ::: _I suggest.

Bane spins around sharply, his fist flying toward Kid Flash. Abruptly, he is flung backwards, a startled gasp escaping his mouth as he's telekinetically turned so that his face his looking towards the ground, where Superboy and Miss Martian are standing.

"Finally," Superboy comments, prepping for a punch. "Drop him."

Miss Martian releases Bane. Superboy's fist collides with his face, sending him careening back through the air.

Kid Flash restrains him quickly while the rest of us remain at the tunnel. I look at the explosives, an alteration to the plan forming in my mind as Robin deactivates them.

"Miss Martian, how would you feel about sabotaging the helicopter with these?" I question, gesturing to the explosives.

She smirks in response.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : July 29, 2010 – 06:52 EDT**

Despite the final plan going off quite smoothly – with even some improvisation by Miss Martian when Sportsmaster's and Superboy's fight got too close to her and Sportsmaster spotted her – Batman seems to be more than irritated. We got Shimmer, Mammoth, Bane, a number of Cultists, and Bane's partners imprisoned. Injuries were minor – mostly bruises and scrapes – and despite the large amount of property damage – the factory may have exploded, I do not wish to take full responsibility for it but I know I must – it was a reasonably successful mission. It was not a reasonably successful _reconnaissance_ mission, but it was a successful mission.

I am not particularly happy about having to wait this long to meet with Batman for the debriefing and report, as my nerves are nearly completely shot thanks to the knowledge that we really did not do at all what Batman wanted us to do. I understand it – we had to make our cases for a couple of the criminals to speed up their trials and imprisonments, we had to ensure our injuries were not major, and, well, I was tasked by Annex Orin to assist in the clean-up of the debris from the explosion from the waters around Santa Prisca - but I am not happy with it.

Annex was…not entirely impressed by the fact that I managed to blow up a building while leading the team. Thus, I wound up on clean-up duty.

Personally, I think Batman could have met with us a few days ago. He simply chose to make us wait to make us squirm even more and reflect over our mistakes during the mission.

It sounds like a Batman thing to do.

"A simple _recon mission_." Batman says and it is only thanks to my military training I do not flinch when his face – and glare – stops an inch from my face. He straightens up and walks down our line, "Observe and report. You will each receive a written evaluation detailing your many mistakes. Until then," he stops at the end of our line, "good job."

My head twists sharply to look at him, surprised.

What?

We blew up a building!

"No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy," Batman explains. "How you adjust to the unforeseen is what determines success. And how you choose who leads determines character."

Excellent.

We have _character_.

**07:33 EDT**

I lean back, shoeless and jacketless, against the wall my bed in Mount Justice rests against. Resting on my knees is the digital file on Shimmer. I reviewed her file and the others shortly after the mission's end but I am going to continue to periodically review those files and take notes on them until I can recall them instantaneously. I cannot have another situation where I do not know whom I am facing.

Although, the novel at the foot of my bed is calling to me.

I need to review. I must review. It does not matter that I can nearly recite Shimmer's file word-for-word. I must review it until I can completely recite Shimmer's file word-for-word, not nearly. I cannot be distracted by leisure reading.

Or by staring at my email contacts list, specifically the contact labeled as "Tula".

I need to email her at some point. I really do. I just…do not know what to say. What are you supposed to say to your best friend slash secret love interest when you just moved out of the city-state you met and lived in, together, and whom you haven't spoken to or emailed since then because you have no idea what to say?

Pansy is different. Firstly, I am no more interested romantically in her than I am in Wally. Ew. Secondly, she emails me nearly every single day so I do not feel pressure to email her and we already have a rhythm going for communication. I have no such rhythm with Tula because we have never actually needed to email one another for any reason beyond sharing information for group projects at the Conservatory!

How do people just open up the "Compose" button on their email, type out an email address and type out an email, and then hit send? How do they do that without replying to a previous email? How do you start an email conversation? What is the appropriate level of familiarity over email with your best friend slash secret love interest?

How do people communicate so easily?

There are people all over the place just leisurely picking up telephones or typing out emails and communicating with people without any trepidation! I do not understand how they do that. It's like a foreign language to me. Just, _how?_

_Dear Tula,_

Is the "dear" too formal?

_Tula,_

Is that too informal?

_Hi Tula!_

_Hello Tula,_

_Greetings Old-Friend-Who-Does-Not-Know-I-Wish-To-Ask-Her-Per mission-To-Court-Her,_

Too peppy. Too sombre. Will never consider.

_Greetings Bright love of my life whom I wish to trade sweet nothings with and create beauteous memories of light and dark, sun and sea with while gazing into those deep entrancing pools of mystic energy thou calls ey-_

"Kalladura'ham."

I jump and nearly fling my tablet across the room at the deep voice.

Batman stares at me. He is standing in the doorway to my bedroom.

Batman.

_Batman_.

I scramble to my feet and straighten up quickly, all too aware of the fact that I had likely just humiliated myself in front of Batman of all people, and that I was not wearing shoes.

"Sir," I say quickly.

He hands me a flash drive, explaining, "This is for your eyes and your eyes only."

I raise my eyebrows, "Sir?"

"Robin has seen them, but as leader you should as well."

I nod, looking down at the flash drive, "Yes sir."

I look up and, unsurprisingly, Batman is gone.

Batman.

The man who just unintentionally – I think, you never know with Batman – caught me mentally creating mocking versions of love letters to my best friend/secret love interest.

I think I finally understand Pansy whenever she says _"Omigod, that was so embarrassing, I think I'm gonna die."_

oOoOo

**Sender: **glorigrrrl72  
**Date: **Thurs, 29 July 2010 18:22:12 -0400  
**From: **Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization: **u-Mail  
**To: **knightlight  
**Subject: Re: **I believe I may understand you more now

AHAHAHAHAHAHA

I'M JUST GONNA SIT HERE LAUGHING AT YOU.

OMG.

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU PROVIDE SO MUCH ENTERTAINMENT FOR ME IN MY BORING NONSPANDEXED LIFE.

Boss walking in on you making up love letters to your crush. This is quality.

BTW, here's what I would write:

_Tula,  
__Show me the booty.  
__Gimme the booty. I want the booty.  
__Back up the booty. I need the booty. I want the booty.  
__Oh what a booty.  
__XOXO Kalla  
__P.S. Booty_

(Seriously, just email her, what's the worst that could happen?)

;P

oOoOo

**Sender: **knightlight  
**Date: **Thurs, 29 July 2010 23:11:16 -0400  
**From: **Kalladura'ham D  
**Organization:** Angelia Graphikos  
**To: **glorigrrrl72  
**Subject: **I refuse to be the protagonist of a rom-com

P,

I will never send anyone such an email. Least of all Tula.

Many things could happen. I have a very active imagination. Most possibilities result in those films you watch wherein the protagonist is crying to a tub of ice cream after her beau "breaks her heart". I would not wish such indignity upon myself when I could easily prevent it by simply not emailing her. Or speaking to her. Or conversing with her in anyway that would suggest my affections for her go beyond friendship. That is, until the affections go away.

-K

P.S. Do stop listening to that song on repeat. I fear it is infecting your mind.

oOoOo

**Sender: **glorigrrrl72  
**Date: **Fri, 30 July 2010 12:36:42 -0400  
**From: **Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization: **u-Mail  
**To: **knightlight  
**Subject: Re: **I refuse to be the protagonist of a rom-com

Then you are going to just suffer in silence. Have fun. Don't come crying to me when you're full of regrets.

You wouldn't eat ice cream. Lactose-intolerant and all. Your argument is flawed. I don't accept it. Try again.

;P

P.S. Not my fault my mind is currently occupied by "booty". It's my bio teacher's fault. Man has an ass carved from marble. Blame him. His ass is like Flash's. _Flawless._

* * *

**A/N: **Slight change to format, I think it works better for the emails. The timestamps for this episode were all over the place. The last one (August 4) didn't make any sense with the next episode (August 3-4) and there was one timestamp that read 'June' instead of 'July' so I just threw my hands in the air and shoved in the timestamps I thought were right.

Also, I can't figure out where Kaldur puts all of his stuff. He has no pockets, no utility belt, is wearing a skintight uniform that shows absolutely no funky portions where any equipment could be hiding, and he only carries a metal pack filled with water. I bet he's secretly a packrat.

I got unreasonably excited today when I found out that in S1 Black Manta is 37-years-old. I'm only a few months off, a year at most, in Maelstrom-canon depending on when his birthday is. I almost got it perfect. I win.

Once released the character of Pansy cannot be contained. This explains everything at the end of this chapter I think. I make no apologies for booty.

**R&R**


	18. Kalladura'ham 13

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 105: Schooled._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent."_

Marilyn vos Savant

* * *

**13**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 3, 2010 – 06:42 EDT**

Up. Down. Left. Right. Turn. Twist. Strike. Swipe. Block.

Mix it up.

I recall Wonder Woman's words.

_You've noticed that your opponents underestimate your strength. Use that to your advantage. Grab their belts and use them to bind their wrists. Use their movements against them. You don't need to tire yourself to beat your opponent._

Turn.

My eyes widen as my foot is blocked by Miss Martian's arm. I keep my foot there for a moment, staring at her.

She grabs my ankle and pulls me forward in a familiar move.

I go with the pull, pushing myself off the floor and slamming my hands against her shoulders to flip over her. I land behind her and twist as she does, expecting her turn. I grab her wrist and turn, pressing my palm between her shoulder blades as I pull her wrist back and hook my foot against her ankles. She hits the floor facefirst.

"Oof!"

A bright FAIL sign lights up the floor.

"I am assuming that you wish to spar," I comment, taking a step back as she picks herself up off the floor.

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not."

I attack.

Five matches later M'gann lies on the ground staring at the ceiling, "You are a lot better than me at unarmed combat."

"I have more experience, and training," I shrug, helping her up for the fifth time. "But if you used your powers you could beat me."

"About the powers…you…you seem really comfortable with the telepathic link," she says uncertainly. "Everyone else seems uncomfortable with it, because of what you said about telepathy I guess, it being an invasion of privacy."

"You're wondering why I am comfortable?" I assume, grabbing my water bottle.

She nods, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

"I am from Atlantis," I answer. "There are things in Atlantis that would alarm the others. As such, telepathy, shapeshifting…things that the others might find odd or uncomfortable, are not things I find particularly alarming."

"Like what?"

"I have friends with tentacles on their faces, and I have friends who look more like sharks or whales than humans." I shrug, "And considering the prevalence of negative surface portrayals of people who look like them I rather doubt that Kid Flash or Robin would have a good first opinion of my friends with tentacles."

Her curious expression becomes more subdued and she nods, "I guess not."

I frown, not happy about the subdued expression. She's never subdued. Or, as long as I have known her she has not been subdued.

I suppose I do not have to again look over the flash drive Batman gave me. It contains all of the files on the Team, more detailed files than the ones I used to have access to. I wish to have them memorized soon, but I suppose that can be number two on my list, after either figuring out why my answer made M'gann disappointed, or by making her happy.

"Is that disappointing to you?" I question. "That Wally and Robin would likely not have a good first opinion of my friends with tentacles?"

"Oh no! Not at all!" she says, a little too quickly.

"Because they would accept them, even if initially they would be alarmed, not being used to seeing and interacting with those who are less humanoid," I explain. "My less humanoid friends are my friends, and Wally and Robin would respect that and, I have no doubt, wind up becoming good friends with a few of them."

She nods, "That's good."

Perhaps my suspicion of this form not being the one she was born with is more factual than fiction. She may be self-conscious then. Perhaps. I can relate a bit to that, what with my height, my shoulders, my eyebrows, stretch marks, my channels, smaller gills etc.

She does not seem to want to remain on the subject. I am not about to force her to discuss something she does not want to, so I plaster a comforting smile on my face and inquire, "Is there anything you wished to try on Earth?"

Superboy walks into the room. M'gann perks up, greeting him brightly, "Good morning Superboy! Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, fine," he responds, heading for the zeta-beam teleporter tube.

"Where are you going, my friend?" I question.

"Metropolis," he answers.

"Oh!" M'gann grins, "Are you gonna try to see Superman?"

"Try to talk to him," Superboy corrects.

"Oh, well, have fun!"

Superboy half waves at us then leaves.

My confidence in Superman giving Superboy any time, any attention, is ludicrously low. I do not see this ending well.

"Do you think it'll work?" M'gann questions uncertainly. Apparently she shares my lack of confidence in Superman. "Superman hasn't spoken to him at all."

"Perhaps he has had a change of heart," I say, grasping at straws.

"I hope so," M'gann agrees, "for Superboy's sake."

**13:08 EDT**

/ Recognized, Superboy B04. /

"Hi Superboy, how was Metropolis?" M'gann questions, looking up from the holographic air hockey table Wally had pulled up upon his and Robin's entry to the Cave five minutes ago.

Superboy walks right through the holographic air hockey table, ignoring all of us. He appears to be…angry. Like every time Roy thought his mentor – partner – disrespected his independence.

"Ahem, ready for training everyone?" Black Canary inquires, walking into the room alongside Martian Manhunter.

"Black Canary, Uncle J'onn!" M'gann darts forward, hugging her Uncle tightly.

When she pulls away he explains his presence, "M'gann, I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I would see how you were adjusting."

"A few bumps, but I'm learning!"

"That is all I can ask."

"Stick around," calls Black Canary to Superboy, who is rather ineffectively trying to sneak out and skip training. "Class is in session."

She walks into the centre of the room, activating the training program M'gann and I had been using this morning. She tugs off her jacket, explaining, "I consider it an honour to be your teacher. I'll throw a lot at you. Everything I learned from my own mentors, and," she winces as the movement aggravates a wound on her arm that is bandaged, "my own bruises."

"What happened?" asks M'gann, looking worried.

Black Canary tosses her jacket to the side, "The job." She puts her hands on her hips, "Now, combat is about controlling the conflict, putting the battle on your terms. You should be acting, never reacting. I'll need a sparring partner."

Wally's hand shoots up, "Right here! Yeah." He finishes his banana and tosses the peel in the garbage before walking forward, "After this, I'll show you _my_ moves."

Black Canary smirks. Abruptly, she moves forward with a right jab. He blocks and she crouches, whipping her foot out to hook around his ankles, sending him crashing onto his back on the ground where a delightful FAIL blinks.

"Ow, hurts so good," he comments, getting to his feet.

"Good block," she says. "Did anyone see what he did wrong?"

"Oh oh!" Robin grins, "He hit on teacher and got served?"

"Dude!"

Black Canary answers her own question, "He allowed me to dictate the terms-"

"Oh please," Superboy cuts in. "With my powers the battles always on my terms. I'm a living weapon and this is a waste of my time."

_Really?_

I suppose he has conveniently forgotten about the disastrous attempt at battling my parents.

"Prove it," Black Canary challenges.

Ooooo. Good tactic.

Superboy walks forward, looking momentarily surprised. They take their positions.

Superboy punches. Black Canary grabs his arm and does one of the easiest throws in the book, flipping him right over her hip and sending him crashing onto the floor where a FAIL sign blinks.

Robin bursts out laughing. I elbow him in the gut, prompting him to cover his mouth, although continue laughing.

Superboy doesn't have the same training we do. He isn't expected to beat Black Canary. I can't even beat Black Canary in a no-sorcery spar. I do not have the experience. Although, come to think of it, it may actually be satisfying to see Superboy get knocked down a couple pegs and realize he isn't actually a living weapon, no matter the reasons for his conception. He's a teenager like the rest of us. An untrained teenager at that.

Superboy gets to his feet, growling.

"You're angry, good, but don't react. Channel that anger into-"

She stops as Superboy charges. She flips over him, rolling down his back in a move that utilizes his strength to her benefit, and lands in a crouch then promptly whips his legs out from beneath him with her foot.

The FAIL sign pops up again.

"That's it, I'm done," Superboy snaps.

"Training is mandatory," she objects.

A vid-link pops up, displaying Batman, ::: Batman to The Cave. Five hours ago a new menace attacked Green Arrow and Black Canary. The menace was capable of studying and then duplicating the powers and abilities of its opponents. :::

Displayed on the link is a clip of the android looking menace thoroughly thrashing the League. That explains Black Canary's injury.

::: Green Arrow called in reinforcements, which nearly proved to be disastrous as our foe gained more and more power with each new combatant. In the end, it took eight Leaguers four hours to defeat and dismantle the android. :::

Robin steps forward, questioning, "An android? Who made it? T.O. Morrow?"

AKA the guy who made Red Tornado and, presumably, Mister Twister.

::: Good guess, but Red Tornado doesn't think so. :::

"The technology bears the signature of Professor Ivo," says Martian Manhunter.

But-

"Ivo? Ivo's dead," I object.

"So we thought," says Black Canary, "or hoped."

::: To make certain this threat is permanently neutralized we're sending two trucks containing the android's parts to two separate STAR Lab facilities in Boston and New York for immediate evaluation, ::: Batman explains as a map pops up, showing the routes. ::: Every precaution is being taken. We'll have four additional decoy trucks to create confusion in case Ivo or anyone tries to recover the remains. You will split into undercover teams to safeguard the two trucks. :::

Wally pumps his fists, "Yes! Road trip!"

"So now we take out your trash?" Superboy grumbles.

::: You had something better to do? ::: challenges Batman.

My water-pack beeps. I pull out the handheld Atlantean/Surface device as coordinates for the initial locale are transmitted. I nod, "Coordinates received." I raise my hand as I turn, waving for the others to follow, "Let's go."

As a part of the team gig each member got custom motorcycles. The handles of mine doubled as water-bearers, for example, while Robin's could convert into a unicycle type vehicle using the front wheel while the rear would become a long-range weapon that flew. We load those onto the Bio-Ship before heading to the coordinates of the initial locale.

* * *

**Litchfield County : August 3, 2010 – 20:00 EDT**

"Bikes ready?" I question as I zip up my road civvies jacket.

"Good to go Boss," Kid Flash says, pulling on his gloves.

"What's the plan?" Robin asks, perched in a tree for some reason known only to Robin.

"We don't need a plan, we're just following a truck," Superboy objects.

I lick my lips. After a moment, I explain, "We've reviewed the intel on Ivo and the intel on the android, therefore we will remain prepared for any…unforeseen events. There will be two teams, as Batman said. Robin and Superboy, you will be with the Manhattan truck. Kid Flash and Miss Martian you will be with me. We will be accompanying the Boston truck. Remain in com-link communication as not all of us will be in Miss Martian's range for the psychic link. Standard reporting procedures."

Kid Flash stares at me blankly. I clarify, "Anything weird, tell the rest of the Team."

"Gotcha," he thumbs up.

::: Aqualass, what's the Team's status? ::: questions Batman.

I put on my helmet and climb on my bike. The Team follows my lead as I report, "The Team is ready."

We pull up to the outer row of trees, waiting for when the trucks will be driven out.

::: STAR Boston is a Go. :::

::: Manhattan is Go. :::

Robin and Superboy drive out, following the Manhattan truck. I lead the other two onto the road after the Boston truck.

We ride in silence for a bit, my team's immediate com-links quiet. I rather doubted, with Robin on the other team, that his and Superboy's immediate com-links were quiet as well.

::: Do you think Superboy is okay? ::: Miss Martian asks suddenly, pulling up beside me. ::: I wasn't reading his mind, I swear, but anger rolled off him in waves. :::

Kid Flash chuckles, pulling up on the opposite side of Miss Martian, ::: Surf that wave. Just give him space. Me? ::: he pulls up closer to Miss Martian, ::: Stick as close as you want. :::

I cut in, "Superboy will be fine. He just needs some time to cool off; a quiet mission will clear his head. We should-"

_Chitterchitterchitter._

I stop and turn my head, my right eyebrow arching as black robotic monkeys with glowing green eyes rise from the cornfield beside us, chattering incessantly, and head for the truck. They latch onto the truck immediately and shoot lasers from their eyes.

Interesting.

I quickly report over my com-link, "Robin, Superboy, our truck is under attack."

Robin snorts, ::: Yeah, kinda figured! :::

Apparently, their truck is under attack as well.

Miss Martian abandons her bike and rises into the air to deal with the monkeys on the top. Kid Flash follows her lead and uses his superspeed to his advantage, catching up to the truck easily and handling the monkeys on the side.

I twist my right handle, unlocking my right water-bearer and balance on my bike as I whip the back of the truck and clear it of monkeys. At the top though, as Miss Martian moves to help the driver, I can see the monkeys clambering inside through a hole they carved. I speed up as Kid Flash and Miss Martian move to the top of the truck, only to be attacked by a surge of monkeys. The rear of the truck is blasted out, obscuring my vision for an instant. I hear the monkeys fly above me though and turn my bike as my vision clears to see the monkeys with the android pieces flying away.

I stop and remove my helmet, frowning.

Fantastic. Beaten by a group of robot monkeys which were, likely, created by Ivo. If he is in fact alive, of course, of which the evidence is stacking up in favour of.

Where are they taking the android pieces?

"Aqualass to Robin, we've lost our cargo," I report as Miss Martian and Kid Flash ensure the people inside the truck are alright. "Did you-"

::: Ugh, it's gone. And so's my partner! :::

"Aqualass to Superboy. Radio your position, we'll help you."

::: I don't need help! Don't want any! ::: Superboy retorts petulantly before it's suddenly quiet.

"Superboy?"

::: I think he ditched his com, ::: says Robin.

"Super!" Kid Flash snaps in irritation. "Now we can't even track him!"

"He's out of my telepathic range," Miss Martian adds. "This Professor Ivo, if he is alive, seems to be two steps ahead of us. Maybe w-we should contact Red Tornado?"

"Tornado always tells us to handle things ourselves, and the mission can still succeed if we recover the parts before they're reassembled," I explain.

"Oh that's a great plan!" Kid Flash shouts. "Except for the part about us not knowing _where to look!_"

Because I haven't considered that issue _at all_. I appreciate the faith, Wally. _Really._

There are a number of decimated robotic monkeys in the area, they could presumably help with that.

::: Maybe we do, ::: says Robin, undoubtedly thinking of the same thing I am. ::: We'd have heard by now if the decoy trucks had been attacked, so how did these monkeys know exactly which trucks to target? …Hah! The parts have GPS! The monkeys can track the signal, which means I can track them with the one I captured! Looks like both sets of parts are converging on…_Gotham City_. :::

That is hideously inconvenient.

"That far south?" I lament. "M'gann and I won't get there anytime soon. I'm sending Kid on ahead to meet you. Aqualass out."

Kid Flash darts away.

"You will have to fly," I say, looking up at Miss Martian.

She nods and shifts into her skirted uniform.

"And remain camouflaged," I add. "We do not want to draw unnecessary attention."

"Guess I would draw some stares, huh?" she chuckles, shifting into her stealth uniform and putting her hood on before going into camouflage mode.

I grab my helmet from the ground and walk the bike over to the humans left by the truck. I explain, "There will be a pick-up for you soon. Remain here."

The driver gives me a thumbs up.

I put on my helmet and drive off as Miss Martian establishes a telepathic link between us. I send off for a pick-up for the humans and begin to mentally run through what we know of Ivo.

Essentially, he isn't much of a threat physically but he can have robots that are a physical threat. His brain is what concerns me. I hate smart supervillains.

* * *

**Gotham City Academy, Gotham City, Connecticut : August 3, 2010 – 23:16 EDT**

_::: I'm sensing someone else here, besides us and the boys. :::_

_::: Who? ::: _I question.

_::: Ivo, I think, and…someone fighting. :::_

There's an explosion from inside the academy, followed quickly by silence.

Miss Martian and I promptly abandon the plan to investigate the unknown fighter and dart into the academy.

"Help me disassemble him! Now!" Robin shouts an instant before we dart into the gymnasium.

"Dude, the guy has no head," says Kid Flash.

"Don't take any chances!" I order, skidding to a stop on the opposite side of the android from Robin. I promptly create a screwdriver with my water and begin assisting Robin in dismantling it.

It takes a remarkably quick half hour to dismantle the android – Amazo – while Superboy explains what happened. Apparently the robotic monkeys were called MONQIs. It was an acronym. There was, unfortunately, a fair amount of damage done to the school but hopefully it would be mostly repaired for when classes resumed.

After dismantling Amazo and hearing Superboy's report we head to the area where Miss Martian had sensed someone else. A tree right outside of the gymnasium with a perfect view inside the gymnasium had suffered erratic damage due to whatever battle had occurred. Remnants of MONQIs were scattered around the base of the tree and on it, with random arrows – those used in a compound bow and those used in a crossbow, I thank Roy for my knowledge of the difference – stuck within the MONQIs.

"GA was here, wasn't he?" Kid Flash says, picking up a green arrow used in a compound bow.

Robin huffs, "They still don't trust us!"

Miss Martian doesn't look entirely convinced. Presumably, she would have recognized Green Arrow. Perhaps not though? I have her stats but that does not account for her knowledge of her own telepathy, and her ability to sense specific people as such. Perhaps she does not know Green Arrow's...er...mind as well as I am assuming she does.

"We should finish this mission," I say, rising.

With the assurance that the remnants from the battle will be gathered by Batman and Robin ASAP – Batman seems to dislike anyone he hasn't permitted to fight crime in his city to fight crime in his city, so I figure we should leave this to him – we continue in our mission. With only two bikes to use we finish the deliveries then return to the Cave.

Batman, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Red Tornado, and Martian Manhunter are there when we return in the early hours of the morning. I make the initial report, "The Amazo android is in pieces again, safely being analyzed at the two separate STAR Labs. But Ivo escaped and since he originated the tech he's arguably more dangerous than the android."

"Capturing the Professor will be a League priority," says Black Canary.

Martian Manhunter crosses his arms, "But we understand your mission encountered _other_ complications."

We all look at Superboy. Who, thanks to running off, made our chances of defeating Amazo without one of us _dying_ rather less than they otherwise would have been.

"Complications come with the job," says Batman. "Your ability to handle them has impressed the League."

"The whole League?" asks Superboy.

"Given time, yes," says Batman. "Kryptonians, as you know, have very hard heads. Of course, there's no shame in asking for help. That's why the League exists, because there's some problems even we can't handle individually."

"Please," scoffs Robin, "if we needed help we'd never get the chance to ask. Look familiar?" He holds up one of the green arrows we had retrieved, "You were following us! Babysitting! You still don't trust us!"

Batman hands the arrow to Green Arrow, "We didn't follow you."

Green Arrow compares one of his arrows – a slotted point – to the arrow we had retrieved – smoother.

"And that's not your arrow," says Robin, "but that means-"

Kid Flash finishes Robin's sentence, "Speedy!"

"He has our backs," I grin.

I knew it, knew it, knew it. Of course he does. He even painted his arrows green to make it seem as though it wasn't him! All because he couldn't bear to admit that he was actually watching out for someone the softie.

"Souvenir!" Kid Flash declares, grabbing the arrow.

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : August 6, 2010 – 17:42 UTC-03**

"Kalladura'ham, we've missed you!" T'Surk says brightly, swimming out from behind the counter in the recovery centre for the Gulf survivors. Her bright scales glitter in the lobby of the refugee centre as she wraps her arms tightly around me. She pulls away, squeezing my shoulders, her bulbous red eyes bright and happy, "The surface-dwellers have been treating you well?"

"Of course," I nod. "My apologies, I have been quite busy on the surface and with HQ. I am working to try to get this to count as on the clock so I may come here more often."

She grins, causing the scar on her face to stretch slightly. The fins on her forearms brush across the counter as she hurries, explaining, "They should count it. You are doing valuable work here. Alright, here it is." She pulls up the tablet, "We have a few volunteers helping the elders, a few others working with the younger adults, you know who would love to see you though?"

"I am afraid I do not."

"Most of the children are getting much better and are entertaining themselves in the play area," T'Surk explains, "but we have one girl who had an allergic reaction to one of the vaccines yesterday. She's not feeling very well."

"How old is she?"

"Five."

I wince.

"Her patera is being treated at another centre because we didn't have the equipment he needed. They didn't have the room for her, I double-checked, they're filled past capacity, otherwise her and her matim would be there, so, for now her matim is staying with her here in the healing wing."

"What's her status?" I question as T'Surk begins to lead me to the healing wing within the centre, the tablet still in her hands.

"She should be fine, but the reaction has set her recovery time back a couple of weeks. Her sores are getting better, but the staining is still there. Her immune system has healed pretty well, so you do not have to get any extra charms on, but her body's fighting off the reaction and an infection from one of the sores so she's rather tired. I believe her nightmares have lessened, but they are still there."

"Nightmares?" I repeat, looking for clarification.

"She dreams of fire."

I wince.

"She is getting tired, Kalla. She is scared and her matim and I are scared that she's just…too tired of fighting."

I gnaw on my lower lip.

"Her name is Ataxe, her matim is Je'ria, her patera is Haxel and he is stable." T'Surk nods to the door we had stopped in front of. "She's a big fan. Ready?"

I nod.

"We'll surprise her," T'Surk grins conspiratorially, prompting me to hide against the wall. T'Surk pushes open the door declares brightly, "Hello little warrior! Guess what? I have a _special guest _for you!"

"A special guest?" a woman I think is Je'ria repeats, surprise lacing her voice. "Ataxe, who is it?"

A higher-pitched voice I assume belongs to Ataxe pipes up, quieter than the others but excited nevertheless, "Who is it?!"

"Well, I _think_ it's your most favourite superhero _ever_, but I could be wrong," T'Surk says.

"Oh!" Je'ria gasps. "Ataxe, who's your favourite superhero?"

"Aqualass!"

"Should I tell her to come in?" T'Surk questions. "Do you want to see Aqualass Ataxe?"

Ataxe gasps, "A-Aqua-Aqualass is…you…aaaaaaa."

"I'll take that as a yes," T'Surk says. "You can come in now!"

I swim into the room and can't help but grin as Ataxe's eyes grow wide as saucers and her mouth drops open. She stares.

My eyes flick over her, taking in everything that T'Surk warned me about. Ataxe has, like her matim, light brown skin, almond shaped brown eyes, black hair shorn close to her scalp to assist in the healing, and gills across her neck paired with fair fins jutting out from her forearms, around her ears, and her calves. Her webbed hands are clutching her covers tightly. Marring her skin are scars I recognize as being from shrapnel thanks to an explosion, there are angry red sores that have healing charms upon them that litter her body – most of them are products of burns infected by the toxins that infected the Gulf – and one of her gills is mangled, burned and twisted into something it shouldn't have ever been. The tips of her nails and fins are stained black and a greasy brown from the oil that wasn't cleaned out soon enough.

Je'ria has similar stains, most on her hands and forearms, and I can spot the still-healing pinkish skin covering her hands. There are scars that stretch across her hands and up her forearms that are from burns. As if she had plunged her hands into flames. I can almost see Je'ria, her braids wild, trying to hold her breath but trying to scream at the same time, plunging her hands into the depths of the oil unprotected to pull her screaming, burned daughter out.

Je'ria has her black hair pulled back into braids I know are culturally significant for the Atlanteans from the Gulf, although I cannot recall why, and I catch her glancing at her daughter's shorn hair. A flicker of…something passes across her face, something like unease or regret or just plain sadness. The braids are important. Cutting them was a blow.

"Hello Ataxe," I greet, swimming closer to her and lower so that I'm at her level. "I'm Aqualass."

Ataxe squeaks and reaches out. Her rough skin brushes across the back of my left hand where my artificial channels end in a stylized eel head. Her eyes widen and she stares at me, "Y-You…"

"My friends call me Kalla though," I say. "So you can call my Kalla, if you would like."

"Really?"

"Of course."

"Kalla," she repeats, in awe.

I smile and grasp her hand in mine, "Do you know what this is, Ataxe?"

Ataxe frowns, "Hand?"

"Well, yes, but this," I shake her hand, "is a handshake. It's what the surface-world superheroes I work with use to greet eachother, to say hi."

Ataxe brightens immediately and shakes my hand, "Hi!"

I smile, "Hi Ataxe." I turn my head to Je'ria and gesture to her, "Who is this? Is this your matim?"

Ataxe nods rapidly, then winces, and stops. She nods again, slower, more carefully, "This my Matim. Matim!" Ataxe exclaims sharply, trying to crawl closer to her matim. So as to ensure her daughter doesn't disconnect herself from the machines monitoring her, Je'ria moves closer, prompting Ataxe to stop clambering toward her. Ataxe grabs her hand tightly, declaring happily, "Matim, that's _Aqualass_. But-but she said I'm her _friend_ so's I get to call her _Kalla_."

"That's very nice," Je'ria says, smiling at me. "It's truly an honour to meet you, Aqualass."

"Kalla is fine," I assure her. "Thank-you. I heard your daughter is a fan of Aqualass."

Je'ria rolls her eyes, "_Oh absolutely._ She loves you."

"You're like me!" Ataxe beams, looking at me brightly. "You have gills! I mean, you don't have fins but-but you have _gills_."

I smile at her, "Your fins are very pretty, Ataxe."

She shuffles and looks down at her lap, "Th-Thanks. D-Do you think I could be a superhero one day? When I-I'm big?"

"Of course, but it won't be easy," I warn her. "You have to work really hard. Are you prepared to work really hard?"

She nods seriously.

"You could be a hero _now_ though," I say.

"_Really?_"

"You're fighting right now, aren't you? You're being very brave."

"The oil though…and the fire…it keeps coming. Doesn't stop..."

"Yes. But you're being very brave, fighting it as hard as you can. I know it's scary. I've had nightmares too, about fire and oil, it takes a lot of courage to face those fears and fight."

Ataxe trembles, "It tries to eat me…"

"Well, do you know what we can do?" I say, grasping Ataxe's hand tightly.

"N-No."

"We can fight together. We can fight and beat it, beat the fire and the oil and the pain. We can brush the tiredness aside and stand up and fight. We can be superheroes, together."

"I-I can be your sidekick?"

"If you wish. What would you like to be called?"

"Ummm…Tide?"

"That's a great name. So you will be my sidekick and we will fight off the monsters together, right?"

"Right!" Ataxe nods firmly.

"You'll keep fighting even when I leave, right?"

Uncertainty crosses her face. She hesitates, "H-How…if you are not there…I can't…"

"Tide, you can do it. I know you can. You are _strong_ and _brave_."

She shakes her head, "N-No I can't – I can't."

I lick my lips as she lowers her head, shaking it and trembling. Je'ria leans over, hugging her daughter tightly. I look around the room, desperate for something, anything. I look down at myself. At my belt buckle. At the golden glyph for Atlantis that doubled as a com-link. Quickly, I take it off my belt and impatiently slice the back from the front with one of my water-blades. I removethe wires and such, and take that in one hand along with the back of the glyph. I hold the front of the glyph out to Ataxe.

"Tide," I say softly. "Tide."

She turns and looks at what I'm holding out to her, wide-eyed.

"This symbol means Atlantis, it's one of my symbols too," I explain. "You hold onto this and even if I can't be there in-person I will be there, in spirit, in soul. Keep this, and I will always be with you."

She grabs it.

"Careful, it has some sharp corners."

She handles it more gingerly then nods, "Okay. I think...think I can fight now."

Je'ria rubs her daughter's back lightly, "What do you say?"

"Thank-you," Ataxe says, looking back at me.

I smile, "It was my pleasure."

**19:16 UTC-03**

I return home to find Matim and Patera hunched over his tablet, muttering to one another. I raise an eyebrow and pass them, questioning, "Is it a new game?"

"Ack!" Patera jumps. Matim grabs his shoulder tightly.

"Kalla," Patera breathes. "Didn't hear you come in."

I stare at him, puzzled by his behaviour, "Apologies, I did not mean to startle you."

"How was the centre?" inquires Matim.

"I gave my glyph to a girl there, to try to encourage her to keep on fighting." I sigh, "The healing process is slow. If she does not continue to fight she may…"

Matim sighs, "We cannot save everyone."

I sigh, allowing myself a moment of indulgence as I cross my arms and lean against the counter, "That is frustrating."

"Don't think anyone will argue with you about that," Patera comments. "Does the name Caulder mean anything to you?"

I look up, raising an eyebrow, "It only brings to mind a scientist from the surface named Niles Caulder." I shut my eyes, trying to recall the information on him, "Caulder is believed to have been a colleague of The Brain – I think – before The Brain was, well, The Brain."

"Not the Caulder I'm thinking of," Patera says.

I shoot him an odd look, sensing that something is off.

"Are you hungry?" asks Matim.

I nod, "Yes, actually. Thank-you."

The question about Caulder leaves my mind for the rest of the night.

* * *

**A/N:** Writing children is difficult.

Also. Last episode was mildly terrifying.

**R&R**


	19. Kalladura'ham 14

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 106: Infiltrator._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Never let your persistence and passion turn into stubbornness and ignorance."_

Anthony J. D'Angelo

* * *

**14**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 8, 2010 – 20:16 EDT**

"This is Artemis," Green Arrow introduces, explaining the presence of the teenage girl in green with the hip-length blonde hair. "She's ah, my protégé."

My eyebrows shoot up. Roy never mentioned another protégé being trained. If he did not know of this…

Well. I cannot _wait_ for the moment when Roy finds out about her.

That will be unpleasant.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Artemis," I say, walking forward and shaking her hand. "I am Aqualass and this is the Team." I gesture to each member in turn, "Superboy, Robin, Miss Martian, and Kid Flash is, unfortunately, not here yet."

"Kid Flash should be here any minute now," says Miss Martian. "I'm sure you two will get along famously!"

/ Recognized, Kid Flash B03. /

Wally darts into the Cave in his swimming civvies, carrying a beach umbrella, beach ball, cooler and pool noodle in presumed preparation for the beach day M'gann had proposed for today, "Alright, The Wall-Man is here! Let's get this party start-!"

He trips and promptly falls on his face, sending the beach ball bouncing past us and the rest of his stuff crashing to the floor.

I wince.

"The Wall-Man huh?" Artemis says, smirking. _Oh please no. Don't._ "Oh, love the uniform," she continues, despite my silent mental pleadings. _ Stop it, pleeeease. _"What, exactly, are your powers?"

_For the love of Poseidon._ I do not need another one on the Team. Robin and Wally are enough.

Please do not antagonize him. _Please._

"Uh, who's this?" asks Wally, getting up and walking forward. It's easy to tell from his body language that he's irritated, if not simply angry.

"Artemis, your new teammate," she states.

"Kid Flash, never heard of you."

It's starting. _Why._ God-fucking-dammit. Now I will have to deal with a rivalry between Wally and Artemis – who, admittedly, I do not actually know but I foresee little good coming from this regardless.

I hate my life.

"Ah, she's my new protégé," Green Arrow explains.

"Well, what happened to your old one?" asks Kid Flash.

/ Recognized, Speedy B06. /

He isn't wearing the terrible hat. Thank Poseidon. I hated that hat.

I take in Roy's new uniform. Black and red, more structured, without the tunic and the hat with the feather, and it displays his arms, which I am certain will be appreciated by many. Myself included in some twisted, twisted world. _Stop looking Kalla, stop supporting the developing theory that you have a thing for redheads._

It's more suited for someone who wants to remain hidden at a distance that is certain. He also looks well, older.

"Well for starters he doesn't go by Speedy anymore," he says. "Call me Red Arrow."

"Roy," Green Arrow moves forward, "you look-"

"Replaceable," Roy-Spee-_Red Arrow_ spits, walking past us, not even acknowledging me.

_Thanks Roy, I appreciate the acknowledgement. Really. Sincerely._

"It's not like that," Green Arrow objects. "You told me you were going solo."

"So why waste time finding a sub? Can she even use that bow?"

"Yes," Artemis steps up, thank goodness, "she can."

"Who are you?" Wally repeats.

"I'm his niece."

"She's my niece."

"Another niece?" Robin comments. He glances at me, "Sure you're not royalty Gills?"

I shoot an unimpressed look at Robin then focus on Roy, "She is not your replacement." I walk forward, prompting Roy to turn and actually acknowledge my existence, "We have always wanted you on the Team and we have no quota on archers."

Having two archers wouldn't be a problem, really. It could actually prove to be advantageous.

"And if we did," says Wally, "you know who we'd pick."

_Not helping. _I can feel my tolerance for the male redheads dropping rapidly.

"Whatever Baywatch," Artemis says. "I'm here to stay."

I am beginning to like her, for the simple fact that she seems to be someone who will call people out on their bullshit. The antagonizing isn't particularly appreciated at all, but, well, I've dealt with Roy. I can deal with people trying to antagonize others.

Roy makes a move as if to walk away.

"You came to us for a reason," I say, stopping him.

"Yeah," he confirms, "a reason named Doctor Serling Roquette."

Recognition crosses Robin's face and a series of holographic screens sprout up as he explains, "Nanorobotics genius and claytronics expert at Royal University in Star City. Vanished two weeks ago."

"Abducted two weeks ago, by the League of Shadows," Roy clarifies.

"Whoa!" Robin grins. "You want us to rescue her from the Shadows?"

"Hardcore," Wally agrees.

"I already rescued her," says Roy.

He-he took on the League of Shadows _alone?_ That was completely insane! That was-that was ridiculous!

Ugh. Roy is going to send me to an early grave.

"Only one problem," Roy explains, pulling up the specs of what she was working on, "the Shadows had already coerced her into creating a weapon. The Doc calls it The Fog. Comprised of millions of microscopic nanorobots. Nanotech infiltrators capable of disintegrating anything in their path: concrete, steel, flesh, bone. But their true purpose isn't mere destruction. It's theft. The infiltrators eat and store raw data from any computer system, and deliver the stolen intel to the Shadows. Providing them access to weapons, strategic defence, cutting-edge science and tech-"

"Perfect for extortion, manipulation, power-broking. Yeah, sounds like the Shadows," comments Artemis.

Wally scoffs, "Yeah, like you know anything about the Shadows."

She smirks.

"Who are you?!"

For once, I think I agree with Wally. I want her file. I did not even realize that Ollie had a niece, and I have known him and Roy for years. That doesn't seem to be something Ollie would forget to mention.

"Roquette's working on a virus to render The Fog inert," Roy continues as if Wally never spoke.

"But if the Shadows know she can do that…"

"They'll target her," Roy finishes Robin's sentence. "Right now she's off the grid. I stashed her at the local high school's computer lab."

He pulls up an image of Happy Harbor High.

"You left her alone?" Green Arrow gapes.

"She's safe enough for now," Roy argues.

Green Arrow walks forward, "Then let's you and I keep her that way."

"You and I?" Roy scoffs. "Don't you wanna take your new protégé?"

I cross my arms. Batman stops Green Arrow with a hand on his shoulder. Green Arrow sighs, "You brought this to the Team. It's their mission, which means it's hers now too."

"Tch, then my job's done."

Roy walks past us and the computer declares, /Recognized, Speedy. /

"That's Red Arrow, B06," he corrects. "Update."

He leaves.

He needs to cool down.

Hell, most people on this team need to cool down.

* * *

**Happy Harbor High, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 8, 2010 – 21:35 EDT**

_::: Miss Martian, link us up. I do not want the Shadows intercepting our com. ::: _I order.

_::: Everyone online? ::: _asks Miss Martian.

_::: Oh, this is weird, ::: _Artemis comments.

_::: And distracting! ::: _Roquette protests. _::: Coding a distributed algorithm virus on a kiddie computer with less RAM than a wristwatch is hard enough. Now I have to hear teen-think in my skull?! :::_

_::: Lady, do you always complain when someone tries to help you? ::: _Kid Flash comments.

_::: Pot. Kettle. Have you met? ::: _says Artemis.

_::: Hey! I do not need attitude from the newbie that drove Red Arrow off the Team! :::_

_::: That is so not on me! :::_

Roquette cuts in, _::: Fate. Of the World. At stake! :::_

_::: She started it! ::: _objects Kid Flash.

_::: How about I just help Miss Martian and Superboy patrol the perimeter, ::: _Artemis suggests.

_::: Good idea, ::: _I say.

Roy was not even on the Team to begin with. He was never going to be on the Team.

What the hell are you even arguing about Wally?

I want to kick something.

_::: You might cut her some slack, ::: _says Robin. _::: It was her arrow that saved your butt against Amazo. :::_

_::: What? No! That was Speedy's! I mean Red Arrow's, er, arrow. Right? :::_

_::: Not so much. :::_

_::: Well, still not giving her the satisfaction. :::_

_::: You know, I can still hear you! ::: _says Artemis.

I need to talk to Roy now. Figure out what he's been doing if he wasn't in Gotham City back then.

_::: I couldn't get the Justice League, ::: _Roquette complains.

_::: The virus will not be much use if we cannot find the weapon. Can you track it? ::: _I ask Roquette, trying to get the Team back on track.

_::: My utility fog is not a weapon. It's science. Brilliant science! And of course I can track it, but I'd have to go online! Might as well rent a billboard with 'Assassinate Me' written in neon. :::_

She rubs the bridge of her nose. I eye the tenseness of her shoulders and lick my lips. She's twenty-three years old, invented something staggering that could be easily weaponized, and now that it's weaponized she needs to stop it mere hours after having been kidnapped and coerced into building a weaponized version of her invention. It's no wonder that she's scared.

Softly, I squeeze her right shoulder, sensing her stress, _::: We will protect you. :::_

Also, we need to know where The Fog is. So, best to try and keep the person who knows how to track The Fog calm and on our side.

She hits a couple keys then reports, _::: Tracking The Fog now. :::_

I eye the windows.

_::: Mmmm, that boy, ::: _comments Artemis and I see a flash of Superboy's back.

Oh Poseidon. Does "professionalism" not exist in any of their vocabularies?

_::: He can hear you, ::: _snaps Miss Martian. _::: We can _all_ hear you. :::_

_::: Oh, I know, ::: _Artemis responds.

Roquette turns to me and I look over her shoulder at the moniter. I order quickly, _::: Miss Martian, Doctor Roquette has located The Fog. Reconfigure the Bio-Ship so Robin and Superboy can pursue. ::: _

Robin grabs the coordinates then vanishes.

_::: Ready. :::_

A moment later I hear the small sound of the Bio-Ship taking off. There's silence for a blessed moment then…

_::: You embarrassed Superboy, ::: _says Miss Martian abruptly.

_::: Didn't hear him say that, ::: _retorts Artemis.

_::: Must you challenge everyone? :::_

_::: Where I come from, that's how you survive. :::_

She reminds me of my matim when we lived on the surface. Challenging, tense, always ready to pick up and move, paranoid about attackers or hunters.

Rightfully so, looking back at some of the places we stayed and what was occurring then.

I wonder what else Matim encountered on the surface while trying to protect us and keep both of us away from that nameless hunter she claimed kept us from staying too long in one place.

I do not wish to wonder that too often. My mind leads me down rather depressing paths when I do.

_Fwip!_

I twist instinctively and dart to Roquette, catching the shuriken with my chest that would have impacted with Roquette's head otherwise. I hit the ground and exclaim, "Doctor, get down!"

_Fwip! Fwip!_

I grab Roquette and push her down, simultaneously catching the two other shuriken with my forearm, sending a faint stinging up my arm.

"Mmm, that had to hurt," the woman with the Cheshire mask says, revealing herself and darting forward.

I pull out the shuriken swiftly and create two hardwater-blades, retorting, "Atlantean skin is quite dense."

I get my blades up just in time to catch her sai as she croons, "And my shuriken are quite poisonous."

I shove her backwards and she flips across the room, managing to recover quickly.

_::: M'gann, Kid, Artemis, we are under attack in the computer lab, ::: _I report, as the familiar tingle of jellyfish toxin emanates from the shuriken entry points.

I may have had an adventurous year when I was 10 and attempted to adopt a jellyfish as a pet. Matim said no, unfortunately. That was probably a wise decision on her part.

_::: On our way! ::: _says Artemis.

I dart toward the woman I recognize to be Cheshire. Her talents run through my mind as I block her sais and attempt to whip her feet out from beneath her.

Cheshire is with the League of Shadows, trained extremely well, specifically in close-combat but can do long-range as well usually with firearms. She has access to an undetermined amount of weaponry and a knowledge of poisons that is, to put it lightly, remarkable. Commonly uses sais and poisoned shuriken – obviously – and wears a Cheshire cat mask whenever possible. No confirmation as to whether the mask has any additional capabilities such as a rebreather or filter, but the likelihood is high. She's an assassin first-and-foremost with all accompanying abilities. Her estimated age is, however, only 20, which is, for surface-dwellers, remarkably young for someone so well-trained. Her past is, undoubtedly, colourful.

She twists, getting her feet around my neck uncomfortably and sending me crashing to the floor on my back. A sai flies above me and I instinctively snap up a water-whip, sending the sai off-course and impacting with the bulletin board rather than Roquette's head.

"Almost," Cheshire says, pulling out a small dagger. "Poison slowing you down?"

"Jellyfish toxin," I state, my blades slamming against her remaining sai and dagger. "I am largely immune."

"Largely," she repeats, slamming her head against mine.

I stumble backwards onto my butt in surprise more than pain, losing my grip on my water-bearers.

_Fwip! Clank!_

I grab my water-bearers and get to my feet to see Cheshire without her sai and dagger and Artemis aiming a second arrow at Cheshire.

"This gig's getting interesting," Cheshire says, pulling out a collapsible sword.

Artemis shoots.

Cheshire slices the arrow in half, followed quickly by another, and another, and another. Her sword movements are familiar. Ones I've used myself while training with Roy. I suppose it is not out of the realm of possibility that Cheshire has trained with an archer and been taught how to deflect arrows and read an archer's movements, as I have.

I wish we were above a bathroom. That would make taking down Cheshire much easier. But, unfortunately, Happy Harbor High has no computer lab above, or below, a bathroom.

Kid Flash and Miss Martian come skidding into the room, backing me up.

"Maybe a little too interesting," Cheshire says, glancing back at us.

Kid Flash darts forward as Artemis releases another arrow. A smoke bomb explodes and I turn immediately, grabbing Roquette and pushing her down to cover her with my more durable body.

"Gone!"

I release Roquette and stand, turning to find Cheshire gone.

"She's getting away!" shouts Roquette. "You're letting her get away!"

I restrain the want to sigh.

"This is all your fault!" shouts Kid Flash, turning to Artemis sharply. "You were on perimeter! How'd that Shadow get in?!"

Artemis glares at him. Miss Martian speaks up, "That's…not really fair. I was outside too."

"Outside, being distracted by her!" Kid Flash objects. "Besides, I can't be mad at you." _::: You have me mouth-to-mouth. :::_

_::: We heard that! ::: _Artemis, Roquette and I exclaim.

Miss Martian crosses her arms and shoots a glare at him as he shouts, "Dangit!"

"I didn't do half as well during my first battle," says Miss Martian to Artemis. "And I know you can't have been Green Arrow's sidekick for very long."

"Focus, everyone," I order, partly as a reminder for myself as well. "The Shadows will be back."

I refuse to have another Gonzalez incident.

::: Robin to Aqualass, we're over Philadelphia, ::: Robin says over our com-link. ::: We've located the Shadow's next target, STAR Labs. We're too late! It's destroyed, _totally destroyed,_ the Fog decimated it. This is bad. STAR Labs is cutting-edge and now their secrets are in the hands of the enemy. What's our next move? :::

We need a computer and Internet access, but we also need to keep Roquette safe. Perhaps, it's time to make things more complicated for the Shadows.

"Rescan for that Fog, find it," I order. "We're moving the Doctor."

"Where?" asks Miss Martian.

"Cheshire will undoubtedly bring backup this time, now that she knows our numbers. So we will need to take them out separately to keep the Doctor safe. You, Miss Martian, will pose as the Doctor in the town hall. There should be a computer in there. Kid Flash and Artemis will remain with you there, inside. The Doctor will be further in Happy Harbor, at the computer café. I will lead the assassin to the town hall and when she or her backup believe they have taken me out I will return to the café to guard the Doctor."

"While we deal with the others in the town hall," Artemis surmises.

"Exactly," I nod. "Understood?"

The others nod.

"Then let's go."

* * *

**Town Hall, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 8, 2010 – 22:34 EDT**

_::: Stop it. Both of you, ::: _I snap.

_::: What? ::: _exclaim Artemis and Kid Flash.

_::: I can hear you glaring. :::_

Honestly, it's like herding children.

I dart across the trees across from the Town Hall, making it easy for the Shadows to track me. I pause crouching by a tree and say, "Miss Martian, stay in camouflage mode and make a wide perimeter sweep."

Hopefully, that will make the Shadows believe that Miss Martian is actually outside with me.

_Schwip!_

Something sticky lands on my head and shoulders. My eyes widen at the familiar substance and abruptly I'm pulled up into the tree. I catch a glimpse of Black Spider before suddenly he's kicking and punching me and sending me careening out of the tree and into a van, denting its side. I hit the road face-first then pick myself up quickly as Black Spider lands in front of me.

Something hard collides with the back of my head and I hit the ground, still conscious but pretending to not be.

That did hurt though. Ow.

I hear Cheshire land beside me and say, "The Martian could return any second and I'm not keen on evening their odds. We end Roquette _now_."

_::: Get that? ::: _ I question.

_::: Got it, ::: _says Miss Martian as the Shadows dart away from me.

I wait a moment before Cheshire lands in the Town Hall, the last Shadow to go in, then I dart to my feet and sprint down the road.

I enter the _Sandbar Internet Café_ through the back door and call in, "It's me."

I enter the main area where Roquette is relaxing slightly and continuing to type away at the computer. I do a quick internal perimeter and return to Roquette.

"I've almost got it!" she announces as I look out the windows cautiously.

It's only a matter of time before the Shadows discover our deception. I am not keen for when that moment comes.

_Clickclack._

I look up at the ceiling and grit my teeth, "We have company."

That was quick. Cheshire was good.

"Uploading now!" Roquette grins. "And by the way, you said you'd protect me!"

A smoke bomb lands by the hallway to the bathroom and rolls towards us. I whip out my swords, waiting. The back of my neck prickles. I turn sharply and look at the ceiling in time for three darts to impact with my torso.

Almost immediately I feel the tingle of the jellyfish toxin. How much toxin did she put in the darts? I shake my head, fighting to get rid of the gathering numbness, and glare at Cheshire as she lands in front of me.

"Let's test the limit of your jellyfish immunity, shall we?"

Fuckfuckfuck.

I dart forward. She dodges my attacks and as I turn, my vision blurring, her fist connects with my face. I fall backward, mildly irritated by the fact that she had managed to get me dizzy and numb enough to be thrown down by a human's punch.

I can't fight the numbness or the darkness.

"_Shit."_

"_Fuck."_

The voice comes into focus.

"Oh shit, shit, shit."

I groan and push myself onto my hands and knees, wincing. Roquette swears, grabs one of my arms and puts it over her shoulders, helping me up.

"You okay?" she asks.

"I will be fine," I say, looking around, blinking to clear my vision as I take in the lack of the Shadows in the café.

"She's gone," Roquette says. "The virus finished before she got a chance to…" she rubs her neck and swallows, "she said the Shadows might find another use for me."

"The League will protect you," I promise. She stares at me, her eyes flicking down to the darts sticking out of my torso, then nods silently.

::: Fog's neutralized, just in time, ::: reports Robin over the com-link.

I stumble out of the café with her half-supporting me. I look sharply at Artemis standing silently outside of the café, "Where is the assassin?"

"She-she got away," says Artemis.

"Oh! From you? Big surprise!" shouts Kid Flash as he and Miss Martian approach with Black Spider and Hook – he must have been the one to hit me – restrained and floating behind them. "Notice, we got ours." Kid Flash bends over, picking up Cheshire's mask as he grins, "Cool! Souvenir!"

I frown, "Her mask?" I look at Artemis, "Did you see her face?"

"It was dark," she says, staring across the street. She's tense.

I nod and force myself to straighten up, "It is," I wince, pulling out a dart, "fine." A second dart. A third dart. That hurt. "Robin and Superboy neutralized The Fog, and Doctor Roquette is safe. Thanks, in no small part, to you. Welcome to the Team."

I step forward and hold my hand out in the surface-world gesture. She shakes my hand.

"I've always wanted a sister. I mean, here on Earth, on Mars I have twelve but," Miss Martian glances at me, "it's not the same. Now I have two Earth sisters!"

"I, uh, wouldn't know," says Artemis, glancing between Miss Martian and I. "But, uh, thanks."

Miss Martian elbows Kid Flash in the gut. He winces then holds his hand out to Artemis, "Ow, yeah, welcome."

I vomit most of the jellyfish toxin out that morning.

I hate jellyfish toxin.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 10, 2010 – 05:16 EDT**

At the back of the armoury – I believe I may be the only one who uses it – there is a section with restricted access. I input my Atlantean Military ID and the door blocking off the section slides away. Within the small room is a collection of firearms used by the Atlantean Military, most are used for surface missions.

Batman may not condone guns but I'm required to know how to use the Atlantean Military's guns while blindfolded. Annex won that argument by allowing the installation of the highest security Atlantis and the League can offer, security only I or Annex can get through as it's all coded in Atlantean and only accepts our military IDs. I'm the only one on the Team permitted to use any of the weaponry in this room. The others seem to be alright with that, preferring their own more unique methods of fighting, and none of them are soldiers so they aren't required to know how to utilize certain weapons whether they like them or not.

/ Recognized, Artemis B07. /

I barely look up as the Cave announces Artemis' arrival. She's the last one to arrive, after Robin and Wally. I had remained in the Cave for the past couple of days with Superboy and M'gann in an attempt to make myself available for Artemis had she any concerns regarding the Team. I had doubts that she would voice said concerns, but figured it would be wise to remain around anyway.

I grab the Κλυμένη & Τηθύς Τ3E1, Klymene & Tethys Τ3E1, an assault rifle enchanted to be just as effective underwater as on the surface. The energy magazine, standard throughout Atlantis, in it is full and operates rather uniquely. While having widely dispersed laser shots is alright for some weapons, the developers of the Κλυμένη & Τηθύς Τ3E1 are trying to get away from the widely dispersed shots. The dispersal range in rifles is always made initially as minimal as possible, making the laser's diameter as big as a dime. With the addition of the enchantments on the energy the shots generally stop about six inches after entering a substance and then disperse completely, effectively frying the substance from the inside out. It's brutal, but effective, and lessens the mess made by blood or other substances, which is a tremendous problem underwater.

Having blood or other substances floating around in the water makes it extremely difficult to see and could be dangerous if it manages to be inhaled by someone. With time, the debris – blood and other substances – will be washed away and join the detritus elsewhere in the ocean, but in the midst of battle it's an inconvenience.

"Oh wow."

I turn, simultaneously grabbing another magazine, "Hello Artemis. How are you?"

She shrugs, "Fine. What is all this stuff?" She gestures around her.

"Various weaponry," I answer.

"Okay, yeah, I got that," she remarks dryly. "Why do we have it? I mean, M'gann, Superboy, and-" she makes an irritated noise, "_Wally_ don't use any weapons. Robin's got his Bat-designed ones, you've got your water…things, and I've got my bow."

"I use most of the weapons here," I answer. "At times it is easier to train with weapons such as these rather than my water-constructs, and," I hold up the Κλυμένη & Τηθύς Τ3E1, "it is my job to remain up-to-date with Atlantean weaponry and be able to use it seamlessly. This is one of the newer ones. I intend to train with it. You are welcome to join me in training. Although, I am the only one permitted to use this particular Atlantean weaponry." I gesture to the panel beside me as I walk out of the Atlantean firearms room, "There are some surface-world firearms behind this one that you may use."

"Thought Batman didn't like guns," she says as she puts on one of the bulletproof vests from the shelf between the two firearms storage facilities. She types in her ID and the panel slides open, allowing her to take her pick of the weapons. She picks an assault rifle similar to mine.

"He does not," I confirm as she closes the panel. "But as a member of the Atlantean Military and a protégé of my King I cannot refrain from learning and occasionally using them."

Artemis looks surprised as she turns with the rifle in her hands rather than her bow, "You're a part of the military? How old are you?"

"Yes. Sixteen."

She arches an eyebrow and follows me through the door along the left wall that leads into the shooting range, "How long have you been in the military?"

"A few years."

"But you're just…and you're Aqualass? How does that even work? I mean, soldiers kill right? Superheroes aren't supposed to."

"Aqualass is merely a persona that has been applied to me. I put it on when necessary and leave it behind when necessary. Additionally," I continue, "the expectations for superheroes in Atlantis do differ from the expectations on the surface-world."

She studies me, "You've killed."

I sigh as I pause by the controls for the targets and type in the codes for the more moderately challenging targets, "I do not recommend it."

Her surprise vanishes quickly and she snorts, "I'm guessing Batman doesn't know." She watches as the enchanted targets appear down the range. They likely won't be much of a challenge for her.

I lick my lips and think carefully before replying, conscious of the cameras in the room, "Batman is in charge of the Justice League and of his city. My mentor, my King, is in charge of 70% of this planet. I have loyalties before the League because of that. Batman knows that, I believe."

She frowns, putting on a pair of protective glasses, "So, what, if Atlantis comes calling you're just gonna ditch us? Aren't you supposed to be team leader or something?"

"I will not leave you and the rest of the Team without a way to succeed. I will never abandon my Team. I will always have a backup plan ready to be implemented."

It is a tiny lie seeing as I have no real idea what I am doing with this whole Team Leader thing, but I can fulfill it as I move ahead. I just need to plan a bit more. I think.

"But you'll still put Atlantis before us."

"Perhaps." I look Artemis in the eyes, "Despite what surface-dwellers commonly think, they know very little of what goes on in Atlantis. In surface-dwellers terms, after all, you still have at least 90% of the world's oceans left to explore. Atlantis does not have such a luxury. There are things in Atlantis that put your legends of bloodthirsty mermaids to shame. Many times, when I go to Atlantis, I am protecting not only Atlantis but the surface-world – my Team – as well. I know the Team can take care of themselves when faced by supervillains, but there are those in Atlantis who cannot. There are those who are not warriors, who are artists or academics or poets or instructors. I protect them, and I protect and lead the Team, and I will never stop doing that. I have been given that task, and I will see it through, though it may at times be from a distance."

I break eye contact, and add, "Just so you know, I am always willing to talk, or simply listen, if you are having difficulties adjusting to the team dynamic or you want me to speak with…certain individuals about his or her behaviour, or anything else. Homework issues, school issues, parental issues, mentor issues…whatever it may be."

Artemis raises her eyebrows, "Oh, uh, thanks."

I gesture to the weapon she had chosen, "I was unaware you were comfortable with guns."

"I like long-range stuff," she shrugs. "Kind of came with the territory."

"Green Arrow instructed you in the use of them?" I question.

"…uh, yeah," she says. "Who else would?"

There was hesitation, unsurprisingly. Green Arrow may know how to use guns but he only taught Roy the basics, never expected him to be anything but passable in the use of them, and didn't expect him to use guns at all. Except, perhaps, as blunt force weapons. They were all about the arrows, and most of the superheroes I knew – Green Arrow included – were wary on the subject of guns. They might know how to use them but they do not want to use them.

Privately, I suspect that the avoidance of firearms has something to do with Batman's influence on the rest of the Justice League. Batman has issues with guns, period. For some reason, even though I doubt he wants anyone else to have the same issues he has with guns, he still would like to ban them completely from the superhero world. He doesn't even seem to like the military or the police using them. It's personal, that much I can discern from the few conversations I had with Annex about the gun issue when I first began working as Aqualass and realized that using guns as a superhero was _actually an issue _and simply_ not done _for some reason no one really – in my opinion – had a good reason for.

It's a different story for myself and Annex, and a few other League members of course, with our military connections. Despite that, the threat of Batman's Batglare seems to be effective in keeping those of us who are comfortable with using guns from actually taking out criminals by using guns. That is, where he actually has control over what weapons people use, which stops immediately at Atlantis no matter what.

It's interesting that Artemis apparently has no reservations with, at the very least, shooting a target with a gun.

Shooting a person is another thing entirely, of course, but the fact that she seems to have no reservations _at all_, not even guilty ones because of Batman's pull on the League, is surprising. I suppose I could simply attribute the lack of Batman guilt to her rookie status though. She hasn't been around Batman that long so she may simply be still adjusting to the man himself and it may take a bit of time before she feels guilty for doing something he disapproves of. But…my guts are telling me that isn't it.

I still have reservations about her story as Green Arrow's niece because, well, I've known that man and Roy for years and neither of them ever mentioned a niece of Oliver Queen who also happened to, coincidentally, be able to handle a bow really well. It's odd and has resulted in my current confusion. Plus, there's her knowledge of the Shadows and while if I were on the surface and still under Annex's mentorship I likely would have a fair amount of knowledge at the beginning of my training, due simply to the process within which I was trained, the likelihood of Green Arrow taking it upon himself to educate his new protégé on the finer points of the League of Shadows is slim to none. I can buy her skill in combat. That's easy enough to accomplish, just takes a lot of hard work and a passion for what you do. The ease with which she handles the firearm currently in her hands though is twisting at my gut alongside everything else.

There is something off here. I do not think it's a serious problem. At least, I don't think Artemis is going to do anything bad to the Team. It could cause some minor issues though and, frankly, I do not want to deal with minor issues. I just want to do my job, beat up some people, save some people, and then go home. I did not sign up to be a therapist. I'm sixteen-years-old. I know what I'm doing about as much as the rest of the Team does. I am – what is the expression – flying at the seat of my pants right now.

I do not like it. I know too little. There are too many little issues within the Team – M'gann's flirting and attempts to please everyone, Wally's flirting and general disrespect, Robin's trolling, Superboy's anger and father issues, Artemis' apparent competition with everyone under the sun plus whatever the rest of this is – which, when combined with my own issues makes me a tad overwhelmed by it all. I have no idea what I'm doing, every so often worry for the people at the centre in Shayeris and other city-states rears up as well as concern about the Purists and Atlantis in general. Then there's the issue of what happened to my friendship with Roy so that I didn't even know about the costume change, and my affections for Tula that have resulted in 15 drafted emails that have all been deleted, plus there is guilt because I think I may be ignoring Garth because of everything that's been happening on the surface _and_ my affections for Tula.

I'm trying to be a good leader, plus a good friend, a good soldier, and a good daughter, but I have no idea what I am doing. It's overwhelming and only made worse by the fact that I can tell Matim knows that I feel overwhelmed and frustrated and that concerns her. I do not want her to worry. It's likely irrational, my want to not show any weakness, inability or failure of mine to my matim. I know she just wants to help and she's seen me at what has thus far been my worst, but I do not want her to help. I can do this by myself, surely. I just have to figure out how.

Maybe.

This would be easier if someone offered some guidance as to how exactly one goes about leading a hormonally-charged team of superpowered teenagers with issues and some of them with barely any formal training in superheroics to begin with.

It would be unfair to ask Annex for help. He has, as I told Artemis, 70% of the world to rule over. When he does have time for one-on-one sessions with me we usually wind up simply sparring anyway. I cannot ask Anassa because she has both her duties as Queen of Atlantis and her duties as the Head of the Conservatory to attend to. I suppose I could ask one of my Atlantean instructors but I have not seen them in months due to the Team and, well, would it not be rude to simply pop in and sit in front of one of them? I would probably just start begging for help because I have no idea what I am doing. I can lead Atlantean-trained soldiers because we actually have a system for communication that I am well-versed in, but this team is nowhere near as sophisticated and it's made even more frustrating by the fact that the Team is not trained in such a way that I can reconcile with my own more military-type training!

Their training just…doesn't fit with mine. How am I supposed to reconcile four very different types of training – my military training, Robin's training under Batman, Kid Flash's less intensive more volunteer-based training under Flash, Artemis' laissez-faire training under Green Arrow and whomever else she trained under for the firearms – with a lack of training – Miss Martian said she won a competition on Mars that caused her uncle to choose her to come to Earth but I don't know if she was trained for that or anything, and Superboy only has a month of barely-there training and general life experience – to turn into something Batman, Black Canary, Red Tornado, and the greater League approves of _and_ will result in the bad guys being beaten?

At this point I believe my only option is Batman.

How does one even go about telling Batman that they have no idea what they are doing and would like some help? I admire Batman's professionalism and may have had a tiny hero-worship sort of crush on the man when I first started out, but that does not contribute to successfully getting guidance on how to lead a team of mismatched hormone-driven teenage superheroes! It's not as if the man has any experience leading a team of hormone-driven teenage superheroes with vastly different experiences, training, and issues.

I don't know what to do.

Although, now I remember why I wanted to shoot something. There is that.

* * *

**A/N: **I have had this sitting on my computer for a week basically done. Then I rewrote the ending about five different times because I was unsatisfied. Originally I thought they'd be in the library but I really wanted to get some more weaponry up in here, expand on Kalla's training and Atlantis itself, and the occasional tension between Aquaman and Batman because both dudes are leaders and warriors but they lead very different people and fight on very different battlegrounds and this was easiest accomplished by putting a gun in Kalla's hands.

Also, I recall no evidence that Artemis dislikes guns at all for at least _training_ if not actually using in the field, and I'm willing to bet…something…that Sportsmaster had no issues training his kids in not only their favoured weapons (bow & arrow, sai, sword) but on every other possible weapon out there, which includes firearms. He was training them to be assassins so guns would be useful if not necessarily the best choice.

I hate writing beach days. Thus, the lack of a beach. This may have been influenced by growing up landlocked. I don't know.

Who didn't have a crush on Batman? I mean really. Got the tall, dark, mysterious/handsome triad down pat. And he's competent as hell.

**R&R**


	20. Kalladura'ham 15

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue/plot from Young Justice #9: Cold Case and Young Justice #10: Hot Case._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, B&E, weapons smuggling, brief mention of an Atlantean trafficking ring**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_A man's country is not a certain area of land, of mountains, rivers, and woods, but it is a principle; and patriotism is loyalty to that principle."_

George William Curtis

* * *

**15**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 13, 2010 – 15:00 EDT**

_Always be alert and become familiar with the "shadows." I have been unable to…Tula_

_Conducting advance research, studying targets, organizations and systems involved until you have exhausted every possible avenue is critical in preparation for stakeouts, infiltration and concealment._

_TuLa __Tula__ Greetings, my friend…?_

I learned most of this in Atlantis. There are differences in the technology used and the organizations involved but, well, espionage is rather standard no matter where you are. Technically, I may not be an agent in espionage for Atlantis but I have been trained in it and continue to be trained in it. This is boring.

Hence, my doodling of Tula and the various Atlantean runes covering my page ranging from notes from Captain Atom's lecture to Tula's name to various attempts at the beginning of an email to her. Again.

I hate email.

"This is boring, isn't it?" says Captain Atom.

Yes.

"Oh, no, Captain," says M'gann, sitting up sharply at his voice, "it's quite…"

"Yeah, boring," says Superboy.

Captain Atom nods, "Alright, let's learn in the field." He pulls up an old case file, "This is a cold case, Vietnam era." He pulls up the specs of a man, "This is Captain Nathaniel Adams, United States Air Force. Convicted in 1968 of murdering Air Force General Clement Lemar. Adams died in prison but I've received a reliable tip he was framed."

Captain Adams was born April 30, 1940. U.S.A.F.

I wonder if I am even permitted to know about this, or if Captain Atom will simply ask me to omit certain details in my report to Annex Orin. Generally, the United States Military is not fond of revealing its internal issues – cold cases or otherwise – to members of another military – such as myself – even when they are friendly with said military. I know for a fact that the Atlantean Military would sooner attack Atlantis itself than reveal anything to another nation's military – whether it be one lowly soldier or the Commander-in-Chief him or herself – that suggested its military had internal problems, whether they be in the past or the present.

Annex will certainly welcome the chance to learn more in-depth about the American Military. With the negative effect that surface-nations can have on Atlantis by simply dropping their trash into the oceans the Atlantean Military has made it a point to know as much as possible about the defenses of the surface-nations. War is not something Atlantis wants, of course, but with the past relations between the surface-nations and Atlantis being what they are – dominantly negative – and with the most recent oil spill, it is difficult to break decades upon decades of paranoia and tradition in espionage.

Either Captain Atom is unaware of the likelihood of Annex and his spymasters having a number of agents constantly investigating the militaries of various surface-nations – I cannot say positively either way, seeing as I am not directly involved in Atlantean espionage beyond some training as Aqualass – or Captain Atom simply trusts that I will use my discretion to protect the interests of both the United States and Atlantis. I am uncertain as to whether he should be pacing such trust in me. Annex and I have made it clear that our duty will always be first to Atlantis and second to the League. We have never, and likely will never, make our loyalty to the United States first-and-foremost. Perhaps Captain Atom will confront me later about my report and personally ensure that at the very least my report has sensitive information removed from it. I hope he does, as I know what I am expected to do for Atlantis but my duties to the Justice League are much less clear.

This is a difficult situation.

"You assignment: Investigate," says Captain Atom, apparently completely unaware of my internal battle. "Prove Adams' innocence or reconfirm his guilt and report back to me."

"Really? You need superpowered operatives for this?" says Superboy.

"Right, then. I'll continue the lecture."

I shoot up with the others, "No!"

* * *

**Honolulu, Hawaii : August 13, 2010 – 19:05 HST**

The documents to go along with Captain Adams' court martial were a bit of an adjustment to read. They were similar to Atlantean ones, but the small differences made me take longer than usual to read them. Nevertheless, the case seems to be on the surface a very simple one.

Captain Nathaniel Adams reportedly blamed General Lemar for an ambush that got a number of men killed, barring Adams and a man named Lieutenant Yarrow. The accusation became violent and Adams reportedly killed Lemar with his service knife. He was arrested by MP Sergeant Polk.

Simple.

After the sentencing Colonel Wade Eiling – now General – married Adams' wife and raised his kids. Which put a twist on the case that I was far from happy about. That addition to the case made Eiling questionable.

Step one was to contact those involved in the case. General Wade Eiling, the judge for the court martial. Lieutenant Henry Yarrow had been Adams' Defense Counsel. Medical Examiner had been Major Shirley Mason. Prosecutor had been Lieutenant Kevin Blankly.

Miss Martian and Robin went into the Pentagon – habitually, I made a mental note as to how easy it was to infiltrate, then I promptly tried to figure out a way to omit that from my report – and contacted General Eiling. That was done under the guise of a fictional Captain played by Miss Martian who claimed to be working for the Judge Advocate General's Office and was given the task of reopening the Lemar and Adams case. Eiling recited the issue in his gruff tone with a twinge of boredom and frustration that was nearly verbatim of the court martial transcript.

Superboy and Kid Flash contacted the retired Lieutenant Yarrow. That was where things got interesting.

According to Yarrow, Adams suspected a weapons smuggling ring and mentioned that to Lemar. Lemar, having claimed to have heard rumours of a ring as well, ordered Adams to take a squad to Hill 409, which was the ambush referenced in the altercation with Lemar. Adams assumed, and then convinced himself, that Lemar had sent them to that ambush and that he was a part of the ring himself. Adams insisted on confronting Lemar about his suspicions and then blacked out. Then, Lemar was dead and Adams was being arrested by MP Sergeant Polk while Adams swore that he had been drugged.

Adams' service knife was proved to be the murder weapon, Major Shirley Mason testified there were no drugs found in Adams' system, and Adams was found guilty by Eiling. In prison, Adams died.

While Robin and Miss Martian took the new information and traveled to where Mason now lived, Artemis and I continued working on deciphering a few more military records and documents. Some we managed to get from Vietnam about the Viet Cong group that ambushed Adams' squad, which Artemis promptly got to work translating – I knew she could speak Vietnamese but was unaware that she had a Vietnamese mother, a conversation which sparked me telling her of my own background, half-Human and half-Atlantean – while I focused on the documents that were in English. Those documents were promptly put away the instant we got a reply back from Adams' kids, Peggy and Randall "Randy", about meeting with them to discuss their birth-father's trial.

"Thank-you, again, for meeting with us," I say, clasping my hands in my lap as I cross my legs beneath the table and push my military training to the side as I sit across from Randy. He is a Captain in the Air Force and I am not supposed to be a part of the Atlantean Military. I am supposed to be a journalism student, along with Artemis, looking into the Adams case.

"I'm only here for my sister Peggy's sake," Randy says pointedly. "Nate Adams is not a topic I'd ever choose to discuss.

Peggy punches him in the arm with a barely-there glare, "Randy, you're talking about our father!"

"Ow!" Randy glares at his sister, "Wade Eiling is our father. _He_ raised us. Adams gave up any parental rights the day he betrayed our country and murdered his superior officer."

I could see his point. He had followed in the footsteps of both his fathers, joining the Air Force, and a common theme among any individual in the military was that duty to country. I would probably feel the same way, honestly.

"Our mother never thought he was guilty," Peggy points out. "And I don't believe it either."

"I love you sis, but your opinion doesn't count. Dad died in prison before you were born."

Peggy smirks, "Hah! You just called him _Dad_."

Randy frowns.

Sensing that this meeting is not going to go anywhere further with them together, I hail a waitress. Speaking to them separately would probably be a better idea.

"Well, Randy's a little…intense. But at least he's realistic," Artemis says when we leave the restaurant and start walking away. Her words do not settle with my mind though, as I am considering different avenues for communicating with Tula that are not so awkward as email is proving to be. "Biology hardly guarantees parental skills, or even basic honesty. Nathaniel Adams may be guilty as charged – Kalla? _Kalla?_"

I blink sharply and turn. I relax slightly, "My apologies, Artemis. My thoughts were in Atlantis with-"

"Your own parents?" she cuts me off. "What are they like?"

I blink, adjusting to the sharp change in my intended sentence. I had been intending on saying Tula but, I suppose…We have been discussing our backgrounds all day since Artemis confirmed that she knew Vietnamese. It makes sense that she would wish to know more.

"My matim – mother – is Sha'lain'a. She is a native of the Atlantean city-state Shayeris," I explain, lying slightly, but I know that Matim does not wish to inform others of our years on the surface, and she does not like to speak of her childhood so I do not ask. I can accept a lie here-and-there to protect my matim. I shrug, "I have been told that I look like her, but her skin is more golden and her gills are larger, gorgeous." I quirk a smile, "My patera – father, foster father technically – was born a surface-worlder, like yourself, but was genetically altered by Black Manta to infiltrate Atlantis as a water-breather."

He will not mind a teammate knowing, I am certain. And I rather doubt that there is anyone Artemis knows that would find such information interesting beyond passing curiosity.

Artemis stops walking and stares at me with eyes wide, "Your Dad _works_ for Black Manta?!"

"He did," I nod, pausing and turning to look at her, "but-" as my parents explained to me during their engagement, after I had years of suspicion against Calvin, "his love for my mother caused him to switch sides."

I have no doubt that that version, the one my parents told me, is severely abridged.

"Perhaps," I finish, "we should reserve judgement on Captain Adams until all the facts are in."

Plus there is my matim's criminal activity, and the criminal activities of her friends. I am unwilling to believe that anyone is a terrible person simply because they committed a few crimes, never mind if they are merely suspected of committing a crime, and that is even if it's murder of a superior officer. It is a sensitive subject and I would probably feel differently if everyone involved was of the Atlantean Military, but as it stands this entirely involves the United States and I have seen little evidence that either confirms or refutes the charges against Adams.

* * *

**Bibbo's Diner, Metropolis, Virginia : August 14, 2010 – 01:45 EDT**

After Artemis and I finished our translations and readings we reconvened with the rest of the Team, who had encountered difficulties when, after figuring out some of the people in the photo found in the hand of Mason's corpse, went to General Trang's home in the U.S. That was odd, to put it lightly. General Duk Trang had been a North Vietnamese officer, active during the war, who was a suspected weapons smuggler and was now dead thanks to Rako, an assassin with a sword I was reasonably certain was mystical seeing as it managed to cut Superboy.

_::: Has everybody downloaded the annotated photo we found in Mason's hand? ::: _asks Robin over the psychic link as we hold out our cell phones over the table in Bibbo's.

The Team murmurs their confirmations. I flick across the photo, reading the annotations, taking them in and adding them to the rest of the information we had gathered.

_::: Superboy? ::: _asks M'gann, realizing that he had not spoken.

_::: What? Yeah, photo downloaded. ::: _he confirms, looking up from his chest where he had been cut.

_::: Is it your wound, does it still hurt? :::_

_::: It's a scratch. I'm fine. Move on. :::_

Robin explains, _::: Facial recognition software has identified almost everyone in this photo, which we think was taken in 1968 the year Adams was charged with murder. The only players not in the photo are Nathaniel Adams himself and General Wade Eiling who was the judge at Adams' court martial. Eiling sentenced Adams to live in prison, where he died, after which Eiling married Adams' wife and raised his two children, Randall and Peggy. :::_

Lieutenant Kevin Blankly, General Clement Lemar, Major Shirley Mason, Lieutenant Henry Yarrow, General Duk Trang, CIA Agent Alex Rois, MP Sergeant Ends Polk, and an unknown child were all in the photo.

Four were dead, three by murder and the last – Blankly – by cancer. Rois' location was unknown but he was believed to simply be retired. Polk was retired and here, in Metropolis. Yarrow was in Las Vegas as Kid Flash and Superboy were well aware. The child was a complete unknown.

Simple enough. We'll just have to speak to the people who are still alive and whose locations we know, which means Polk. Seeing as how everyone in this photo seems to be dying rather quickly we should also be protecting the people we know the locations of and who are alive, which are Yarrow and Polk.

_::: This boy…could he be the assassin? The one Trang called Rako? ::: _suggests M'gann. _::: Trang said he had protected him since Rako was a child. But Rako said he was loyal to someone other than Trang. :::_

_::: Bet that someone was our missing CIA Spook, Alec Rois. His dossier listed numerous nasty specialties, including brainwashing… ::: _says Robin.

I flip to an image of Tula I have saved on my phone, silently agreeing with M'gann that the child was likely to be Rako. We will have to locate him at some point, along with Rois. I am not certain how to do that though.

I also wonder how I am supposed to contact Tula without sounding awkward. I hate email. Phones will not work. She does not have a com-link. I will need to go to Atlantis at some point but I cannot just leave the Team. I suppose I will have to just wait. Wishing this would go quicker is unlikely to help, unfortunately.

_::: This photograph is looking more and more like a Hit List! ::: _says Artemis. _::: Somehow Rois and Rako found out we were investigating the Adams case. :::_

_::: And decided to tie up the loose ends! ::: _exclaims Wally. _::: That means either Sergeant Polk or Adams' old buddy Yarrow are the next to die! :::_

Robin nods, _::: So what's our next move boss-lady? :::_

_::: Our next move? ::: _I look up and quickly flip the image on my phone from Tula back to the annotated photograph, _::: We split up. Half of us investigate Polk, here in Metropolis, while the other half heads to Las Vegas to protect Yarrow. :::_

_::: Who's going where? :::_

_::: Kid Flash and Superboy can reintroduce themselves to Yarrow. You can go with them Robin. We'll, ::: _I gesture to Artemis, M'gann and myself, _::: handle Polk. :::_

As planned, Miss Martian, Artemis and myself crouch on the roof across from Polk's condo, frowning at the lack of lights. Granted, it is about 2 in the morning so he could be sleeping, but still.

Miss Martian establishes a psychic link, _::: I don't think he's in there. I can't sense him. :::_

_::: We will go in then, ::: _I say, sprinting across the roof to leap onto the roof of Polk's condominium. _::: I would prefer not to destroy this door, ::: _I say, turning to Artemis, _::: may I? :::_

She nods and fiddles with her thigh packet before handing me her lock-picking kit, commenting, _::: Didn't know you could pick locks. :::_

_::: I have some experience, ::: _I say, recalling what my matim taught me as I crouched in front of the door and fiddled with the lock and the picks.

_::: With breaking-and-entering? :::_

_::: My parents have colourful pasts, ::: _I answer. _::: And my duties range quite a bit in Atlantis. Although, our locking mechanisms are a bit different. :::_

More magic tends to be involved.

I rise and hand the picks back to Artemis as I push open the door. We dart down the stairs and head immediately to Polk's place, which I get us into with some creative manipulation of my water. We venture carefully into the dark condo.

Artemis breaks off from us as we reach the living room and she scans his belongings there. Miss Martian and I pause in his bedroom, where clothes are fairly obviously missing from his closet and a quick glance in his bathroom confirms that his toothbrush and such are also missing.

"Looks like he heard about the deaths and fled," says Miss Martian.

I glance at the pamphlets advertising a cruise on his bedside table. Odd. If he had been going away, purchasing a ticket for a cruise or anything, that would have shown up when Robin did his checks on everyone in the photograph.

"He's definitely gone," says Artemis, walking into the bedroom and carrying a laptop. "Looks like he realized what was going on and fled. Didn't even take his laptop." She sets the laptop down on the bed and starts typing into it. Surprisingly, it wasn't password-protected. "Guy looks like a normal guy. Got some old movies by his TV but besides that…normal guy."

Artemis switches out of his Internet history and moves into his documents as I question, "Was there any indication as to how he found out about their deaths?"

"Nope, not even any searches," Artemis says, clicking her way through his folders.

I frown and walk back through the living room and into the kitchen, searching for a recycling or garbage bin. I locate both and hunt for some newspapers, of which I find one of _The Daily Planet_ from two weeks ago, which is less than helpful.

"He likes statutes," Miss Martian comments, standing in front of the display case in his office that showcases a number of statutes.

"They look expensive," I add.

"He could get them from a pawn shop or something for cheap, probably," Artemis says as I take a photograph of the statutes and she sets the laptop down on the desk.

"Financial statements," I say, moving to the file cabinet and opening it with the key resting atop it. I shuffle through the files in the top drawer then hand the oldest collection of financial statements to Artemis, the ones from when he switched banks to Miss Martian, and I take the most recent ones.

There's silence except for the shuffling of paper then Artemis says, "He seems to have been pretty stable, collecting his pension and stuff."

"More than stable," I say. "He was very well-off."

Artemis snorts.

"I think this is all fairly standard," says Miss Martian. "I think the transition took longer than normal, he was in constant communication with his advisors this entire time if his sticky notes here," she holds up one, "are anything to go by."

"Has a thing for antiques too," Artemis says. She nods back to the laptop, "He checks out a few online auctions everyday, according to his Internet history."

"He would have a record of that," I say, putting my file back and opening up the next cabinet drawer. "He would not leave such investments to chance, not with how careful he apparently is with his money."

Artemis sets her file down and returns to the laptop, "Think I saw something like that in here."

I rise from the bottom drawer and she makes a noise of success, "Yeah, here it is. Spreadsheet of the antiques and stuff he's bought, separated by year. He's been doing this for a decade at least."

I pick up a journal from beside his laptop and flip through it, "More than one decade." I hold up the journal, "He's had money to spend on these items for at lest two decades. First decade is in here. This is far above his pay grade."

He could have been getting supplementary income from the ring, of course. Which is an idea that is looking more and more likely.

"Second is here," Artemis says. "God, that is a lot of money for one tiny statute of an elephant."

"You would be surprised by what statutes of Aquaman go for in Atlantis," I say as I return her file and Miss Martian's to the cabinet.

"What about Aqualass ones?"

I snort.

Artemis shakes her head as she downloads the contents of the laptop to a stick, "I don't even want to think about it. Just…that much money, it's obscene."

"I agree," I say.

"Seriously? You hang out with the King of Atlantis."

"I was born poor," I say with a shrug, "and I remain of a lower class."

"But, you're like, Atlantis' superhero."

"There are other forces at work in Atlantis," I explain. "More than simply what you do, or what you are given, determines your position in Atlantean society. And _Aquaman_ is Atlantis' superhero, Aqualass is merely his protégé."

Artemis seems to sense that I really do not wish to speak of it any longer and drops the conversation. Miss Martian just watches us, looking intrigued but unwilling to pry further.

I report over our com-link, "Aqualass to Robin."

::: What's up? ::: he responds after a moment.

"Polk appears to have fled, however, he has made a number of expensive investments and purchases over the years that would not have been possible on his pay grade."

::: So something's weird. :::

"We believe so."

::: Okay, well Yarrow's place just exploded. Yarrow's dead. We're putting our money on Rois 'cause of his background in demolitions. :::

"That is…unfortunate."

::: Yeah, we'll finish up here then meet-up if you have a lead on Polk's location. :::

"Agreed, Aqualass out."

I look back down at the laptop as Artemis moves to shut it down. Miss Martian stops her abruptly, "Wait!"

Artemis freezes.

Miss Martian points at the desktop background, a photograph of Polk and his late wife by Rainbow Bridge National Monument in Utah, according to the caption at least, "Look at his arm."

Artemis and I follow her gaze to Polk's right arm draped over his wife's shoulders. I raise my eyebrows in interest. Artemis comments, "The tattoo on his upper arm is the same one that Yarrow has on his."

We exchange uneasy looks, all of us undoubtedly thinking the same thing.

I contact Robin, "Aqualass to Robin."

::: That was quick. :::

"Polk had the same tattoo as Yarrow, identical symbol and identical location," I explain as Artemis redoubles her efforts on Polk's laptop and Miss Martian moves on to speed-reading her way through Polk's journals.

::: Huh. That's interesting. :::

"Are you certain it is Yarrow who was killed?"

Robin pauses then answers, ::: Yeah…no. The height of the guy here definitely doesn't match Yarrow's height. Might match Polk's though. :::

I suppose they could not make much out of the dead man's face, seeing as he was in the middle of an explosion. We will have to go on height.

::: So Yarrow's involved then, as more than just Adams' Defense Counsel. :::

"It would appear so," I agree, pulling from Polk's bookshelf an atlas.

"This is ridiculous. This man goes to Utah every single year," Artemis comments. "Looks like it was a favourite for vacations. Wife was even from Utah."

"St. George?" I question, staring at the atlas opened to Utah.

"Yeah," Artemis confirms, looking away from the emails and down to me on the floor staring at the atlas. "How did you guess?"

"It looks like he owns property there. Got it after his wife passed away, I would assume," I say, gesturing to yet another sticky-note on the atlas by the dot that was St. George.

"Wait a minute," says Artemis, turning back to the laptop. She opens back up the document for his investments of this year. "Yeah, yeah, here," she says, highlighting a row in the spreadsheet, "he sold that property off to some guy named R."

"R?" I question, frowning.

"Could that by Rako?" suggests Miss Martian. "Or maybe Rois?"

"Not Rako," I shake my head, "he's too low on the pole. It would have to be Rois."

"Unless it's just some random person with an initial R," says Artemis.

"Or that," I admit. "But we should investigate it regardless."

::: We're definitely being set up, ::: says Robin abruptly. ::: Dead guy is definitely Polk and we've got intel from the debris pointing us to an airfield in St. George. :::

"So do we. Get to St. George," I say, returning the atlas to its place. "We will meet you there. Aqualass out."

* * *

**St. George, Utah : August 14, 2010 – 03:26 MDT**

We enter expecting a trap, with Superboy adding to our ploy with his usual, "Can we just get this over with?"

Yarrow, up on the catwalk, smirks, "We can indeed."

Miss Martian looks at Rako, "You're Rako, General Trang's protégé all grown up to become his murderer."

Artemis turns to the unknown man who looks almost identical to Alec Rois from the photo, save for the grey at his temples, "So you must be the CIA Spook – Alec Rois."

"Alec Rois is dead," he says.

"You're his ghost, whatever," Artemis retorts.

"That just leaves the big boss," says Robin, looking up at Yarrow.

"Henry Yarrow," finishes Kid Flash.

"You don't seem surprised," comments Yarrow. "Did you also suspect you were walking into a trap?"

Yes. Yes we did.

"We did, actually," says Kid Flash. "Not much of one though, since we outnumber you six to three."

"After forty years in the arms game, kid, let me offer you a little tip," says Yarrow. "Quality trumps quantity."

_::: Miss Martian, ::: _I say, one eye on Rako and one eye on Rois.

_::: I have Rois, ::: _she confirms.

_::: Me too, :::_ says Artemis, her fingers moving to her arrows.

"My friend is holding a Dead Man's switch," says Yarrow as Rois lifts up his fist. "If anything makes him unhappy – or causes him to let go – this whole hangar goes _boom_." Yarrow looks at Superboy pointedly, "You keep that in mind son. I see that 'S' I can guess what it means. But your little pals aren't invulnerable, even if you are."

"Him?! Invulnerable?!" laughs Rako. "My sword proved otherwise!"

"Proved nothing, Rako," says Yarrow, rolling his eyes. Out of the corner of my eye I see Robin disappear. Yarrow continues, not noticing Robin's disappearance, "Your sword was forged by out stolen government X-Ionizer. Your sword could cut the _real_ Superman."

Okay, not magic.

_::: In position, ::: _reports Robin.

"Perhaps we might return to the matter at hand…" I suggest. _::: Miss Martian, Artemis, be ready. :::_

"Apologies, old men are so easily distract – wait a minute! Where's the flipping boy wonder!"

"Flipping your way now!" laughs Robin, sending Yarrow crashing to the ground.

Yarrow shouts, his shot going wide, "Rois! Blow this popsicle stand!"

"I'm trying!" shouts Rois. "Something's holding my finger down!"

Artemis shoots, unleashing the arrow that coats Rois' trigger hand, arm and half of his torso in polyurethane foam.

"No!" he shouts.

"Yes!" Kid Flash retorts, flipping into him and sending Rois crashing backwards.

I unleash my swords and dart toward Rako who scoffs, "You young fool! No sword stands against mine!"

"Then I should not use swords," I retort and send a blast of water at Rako's face, intent on ending this quickly. The water surrounds his face in a bubble and his mouth opens wide, foolishly. He falls backward, unconscious and I turn up to the catwalk where Yarrow is training his gun on Robin.

He shoots, _CRACK CRACK CRACK_ and Superboy darts in front of Robin. The bullets bounce off his chest, one colliding with Yarrow.

Miss Martian de-camouflages above him and her eyes glow.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 14, 2010 – 13:16 EDT**

With Miss Martian's psychic interrogation of the dying Yarrow the pieces we already had were confirmed and fit together much more solidly.

Everyone was involved in the weapons smuggling ring. Mason, Blankly, Rois, Yarrow, Polk, Lemar and Trang were all involved and played off one another to protect the ring. Rako was raised from childhood by Trang so was involved whether he liked it or not. Adams was innocent, just trying to prove the existence of a weapons smuggling ring, but he wound up talking to exactly the wrong people, including his best friend.

The only loose end, as far as I am concerned, is Eiling. Something about that man just rubs me the wrong way but we can find nothing – besides his involvement in the court martial – to suggest that he's involved in the ring. The psychic interrogation revealed nothing, nor did any of the physical evidence.

It is frustrating, to say the least.

We gave our oral report to Captain Atom and then Artemis and I were sent back to Hawaii to give the news to Peggy and Randy. They were quite happy about it, to say the least.

I remain frustrated though.

The photograph is nagging at my mind like some sort of insect.

"You look annoyed," says Robin, balancing on his hands beside me as I sit in the meditation room staring at the annotated photograph on my phone.

"I am," I admit.

"You're still staring at that thing? We solved the case, it's done. Here," he returns to his feet and grabs my phone, "I'll take a picture of us, celebrate the occasion."

I blink and he grabs my shoulders, pressing us together, and takes the photograph. My eyes widen as he pulls away and checks out the photograph he had just taken.

"What?" he looks up, sensing me staring at him.

"Who took the photograph?" I ask.

"Um…I did?"

"No, the photograph of the ring's conspirators," I correct.

Robin's eyebrows rise, "That…is a really good question."

"There is no way to know now," I sigh. "Not without interrogating Rois or Rako, and they are undoubtedly trained to resist interrogation."

"Rako probably doesn't even remember, he was so young when it was taken, and if Rois really is dead and this guy just happens to look a lot like him then he wouldn't know either."

I take my cell back, unsatisfied.

"Well that just killed the celebration," Robin comments.

"Apologies."

"At least that person is all alone now-"

"It is possible there are other conspirators we simply did not uncover."

Robin shoots me a _look_, "Okay, at least that photographer probably is really old and in no real position to do anything."

"Unless the photographer was another Rako."

"It's good and all, for investigation stuff, but you have a talent for destroying buzz."

"Apologies."

"It's cool. I'm gonna go hang out with the rest of the Team. You coming?"

"Not yet," I say, rising. "I believe I will contact Captain Atom."

"If you're sure."

**20:46 EDT**

I was unable to get in contact with Captain Atom for a number of hours. Now, finally, I am sitting in one of the Cave's rarely-used meeting rooms with him and explaining my most-recent thoughts on the investigation.

"You proved Adams' innocence," Captain Atom says when I finish. "You did enough. This ring is dead in the water, and even if it isn't, it will be soon with all that happened this week."

I bite my tongue to keep from commenting that there was an Atlantean trafficking ring we had thought we had destroyed by imprisoning a ton of Atlanteans, but we found out a year later it was still operating, simply with different, recently promoted Atlanteans from the lower rungs who had adjusted the ring's methods to throw us off. It took us four months after that to finally destroy the ring almost entirely. Annex was never fond of people revealing Atlantis' business to surface-worlders. Black Manta and Ocean Master were fine to reveal, seeing as they impacted the surface-world directly quite a bit, but an Atlantean trafficking ring was Atlantean business, not surface-world.

"Thank-you, sir," I say, nodding.

He studies me for a long moment then says, "You were in the Atlantean Military, right?"

Am in, actually. I am still a part of it.

"Yes," I answer.

His face twitches slightly, unsurprisingly. There are a number of surface-worlders who are not fond of the fact that Atlantis has its citizens militarily trained when they are at least 12 and up. His professional face returns almost immediately though and he says, "There are probably some people in the Atlantean Military who should not be there, who would be smugglers, or would kill their superior officers if given the chance."

Some smugglers, sure, but no one would kill their superior officer unless, perhaps, they were one of the more violent Purists and their superior officer was Impure. Otherwise, it simply is not done. Atlantis is for Atlantis. It is survival of the group, of the city-state, of Atlantis, not survival of the individual. For most of America, I have noticed, it is survival of the individual. That seems to affect everyone.

"There are problems in each sect of society, military or not," Captain Atom continues. "Affirming one man's innocence is a step that will help solve those problems."

Being so heavily involved in the American military for a case still makes me uncomfortable.

"Yes, sir," I say. "Thank-you, sir."

"Was there anything else?" he asks.

If he is not going to bring up my currently strained loyalties and the report I have to give Annex then I suppose I will not. He clearly sees it as a non-issue.

I shake my head, "No, sir."

He rises. I rise and salute him. He returns the salute.

I leave and spend the rest of the day trying to put together my report. It is possibly the most difficult report I have ever written. Which, actually, may be argued to be because I kept on stopping after fifteen minutes and staring at my email trying to convince myself to send an email to Tula. That was likely a contributing factor to the difficulty.

oOoOo

**Sender: **annex.o  
**Date: **Sun, 15 August 2010 14:16:18 -0300  
**From: **Annex Orin  
**Organization: **The Atlantean Monarchy  
**To: **aqualass.k  
**Subject: Re: **09/14/10 Report

Kalladura'ham,

I just managed to look at the report. Well done on the investigative work.

I am uncertain as to whether Atlantis has any information on such a ring. The ring may have made most of their transactions via air rather than sea, in which case our information would be minimal if at all present. Do trust your instincts on Eiling. I have no information on the General myself but a warrior's instincts are usually right. Informing Captain Atom of them was a wise course of action to take.

Do not concern yourself with possibly crossing lines in the Justice League. The Captain gave you this mission well aware of your work for Atlantis. He knows.

Mera has been asking me when you may be returning for a visit to Poseidonis. Is there anything developing on that front?

Good work,  
Annex Orin

oOoOo

**Sender: **aqualass.k  
**Date: **Sun, 15 August 2010 21:42:16 -0400  
**From: **Aqualass Kalladura'ham  
**Organization: **The Atlantean Monarchy  
**To: **annex.o  
**Subject: Re: Re: **09/14/10 Report

Annex,

Thank-you for the help.

I do not believe I will be able to visit Poseidonis for a while. The Team got a new member, Green Arrow's new protégé Artemis and I wish to help her – and the Team – adjust to the change. If I get a chance to visit I will let you know.

Thanks,  
Kalladura'ham

* * *

**A/N: **Quieter chapter, but I think it works. Loyalties being strained/confused always make for interesting internal conflicts, which will probably be continued later on as the Purists & Ocean Master get more trigger-happy. Plus it's a lead-up to everything that will occur in future chapters what with Eiling, Poseidonis, and the backgrounds of certain team members.

FYI, because I forgot to say this in earlier chapters, all of the Atlantean I use is just Google Translated English to Greek, so I apologise for any mistakes.

**R&R**


	21. Kalladura'ham 16

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 107: Denial._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, mention of discriminatory group – Purists, parental issues**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_That's the thing with magic. You've got to know it's still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you."_

Charles de Lint

* * *

**16**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 19 – 19:39 EDT**

/ Initiate Combat Training. 3. 2. 1. /

I dart forward. Superboy does the same, having been eager for quite awhile about being able to spar with someone who wouldn't be hurt by him going all out strength-wise. I have to admit, the opportunity is something much relished by myself as well. Lately, I have been assisting M'gann with her hand-to-hand while Superboy has been working with Robin on trying to be quieter. While M'gann can take a hit, this match between Superboy and I has been a long time coming.

He moves in for a punch. I block and retaliate with a punch that he blocks. I go in for a quick kick, which he blocks before moving in for another punch. I do a back walkover, dodging the punch and making a mental note that he favours using his arms rather than his legs.

He has stopped wearing a shirt while training, after the last time he sparred with Kid Flash and he wound up being blinded by his own shirt. I recommended tights, which are much harder to use to blind people. Superboy glared at me. I may have smiled at him, feigning innocence. He rolled his eyes then so I figure we are approaching an understanding.

Now, however, I cannot grab his shirt and blind him, which is unfortunate.

I block and twist, getting behind him to kick him in the back. He catches himself on his hands and twists in a move that Robin spent ages trying to teach him. He lands on his feet and moves forward in time to block another one of my kicks. I cannot tell if it is because of his training or his speed that he has gotten better at blocking my attacks.

I grunt, catching his arm as it comes down in a move that, were we outside, would have slammed me into the ground with enough force to crack it. The floor we are standing on remains whole.

I twist so that my back is to his chest and I'm grabbing his forearm, intending on flipping him over my body. He clearly realizes what I am planning because he grabs my right arm with his free hand, slams one of his feet against the back of my left ankle and slams me down, using the grand two inches of height he has on me to his advantage. I hit the ground, hard, at his feet.

/ Fail. Aqualass. /

I look up at Superboy, blinking. He dusts off his hands, having learnt through our sparring that there is little he can do short of actually breaking one of my limbs – which is difficult to do – that will hurt me. Slamming me to the ground does not fall under that umbrella.

I smirk and he grabs my hand, pulling me up effortlessly.

"Black Canary taught me that," he explains.

"Using your height against your opponent?" I quip with a raised eyebrow because, well, while Black Canary undoubtedly has faced many shorter opponents I doubt she has been able to use it against them in such a way. She does still only have the strength of an adult human female.

"No, tripping them," he smirks.

I snort. That makes more sense.

Red Tornado descends from his apartment, inconveniently directly above the training room.

Wally darts forward immediately, "Got a mission for us?"

The Team has been anxious ever since our more investigative-dominant mission given to us by Captain Atom. Personally, I think they just want to blow something up again. Or hit something. It was a valuable mission, regardless. The Team – barring Robin – could stand to learn a bit more about investigative work and, in mine and Miss Martian's case, about surface-world crime.

"Mission assignments are the Batman's responsibility," responds Red Tornado.

"Well _The Batman_ and _The Robin_ are in Gotham doing the Dynamic Duo thing," Wally says. "But you're going somewhere, right? Hot date? Or a mission?"

"If we can be of help," I add, trying to soften Wally's demand.

Red Tornado turns, pulling up the details of an older man, "This is Kent Nelson. He is one-hundred-and-six years old and he has been missing for twenty-three days. Kent was a Charter member of the Justice Society, the precursor to your mentor's Justice League."

My eyes widen as Kent Nelson is replaced by the image of Doctor Fate AKA the Sorcerer Supreme. I learned about him at the Conservatory. He was an immeasurably important individual when it came to the mystic arts of the planet, but we were never told of his civilian identity. This does explain why he is 106 years old though.

"Of course," I say, the memories of time spent in class next to Tula and Garth learning about the Sorcerer Supreme running through my mind, "Nelson was Earth's Sorcerer Supreme. He was Doctor Fate!"

This is amazing.

This is really, _really_ amazing.

Oh, my instructors will be so envious. I should probably not be as happy about that as I am.

Wally snorts and remarks softly to Artemis, "Pfft, guy knows a little advanced science and Dumbledore's it up to scare the bad guys and impress the babes."

I have a sudden urge to punch Wally.

How could he be so disrespectful? The Sorcerer Supreme is, well, _The Sorcerer Supreme_. He is the most important sorcerer of our time, if not the most important mystical individual of our time! I…I just…no Wally. No. Unacceptable.

I should get an autograph, or a photograph or a…something…whatever he wants, it does not matter. Just, something to bring back to Atlantis and show Tula – and Garth. Showing Tula something from the Sorcerer Supreme will impress her, right?

Oh Poseidon, wait, no. I should not be trying to use the Sorcerer Supreme to improve my love life. That's probably one of the most disrespectful things I could do. Second to what Wally is doing, that is.

"Kent may simply be on one of his…walkabouts. But he is caretaker to the Helmet of Fate, the source of the Doctor's mystic might, and it is unwise to leave such power unguarded," explains Red Tornado.

The Helmet of Fate. Are we going to be guarding the _Helmet of Fate?_

Oh Poseidon. Oh Poseidon. Oh Poseidon. Yes! This will be amazing!

Would it be disrespectful to take a photo of the Helmet of Fate? Poseidon, I hope not. Maybe I could submit a photo to my sorcery instructor, or to Anassa Mera, get extra credit.

That would probably be disrespectful.

_Just guard it Kalla. Just do your job._

This is going to be difficult.

"He is like the great Sorcerer Priests and Priestesses on Mars," says M'gann, looking absolutely fascinated. "I would be honoured to help find him."

Wally's hand shoots up, "Me too! So honoured…I can barely stand it. Magic, _rocks._"

He smiles awkwardly.

Please, tell me he is not contradicting himself simply to try and impress M'gann. _Please._ If he is I cannot be held responsible for what I may do.

Okay, no. I just have to keep it together. Keep it together.

"Take this," Tornado holds up a gold key. "It is the key to the Tower of Fate."

I'm moving forward and grabbing it before my mind catches up. I nearly start shaking and instead rock forward on the balls of my feet, holding the key tightly.

_I'm holding the key to the Tower of Fate. I can finally die happy._

This is the greatest day of my entire life!

"What are the chances we both so admire the mystic arts?" questions Wally, grinning at M'gann.

Okay.

It _will_ be the greatest day of my entire life after Wally is quiet.

* * *

**Salem, Massachusetts : August 19, 2010 – 20:21 EDT**

"So, Wally," says Artemis as we're flying towards Tornado's coordinates, "when did you first realize your _honest affinity for sorcery_?"

I can practically _taste_ her sarcasm. It is fantastic. Artemis is now my best friend.

"Well, I-I don't like to brag," says Wally, leaning back and completely missing her sarcasm, "but before I became Kid Flash I seriously considered becoming a wizard myself."

I stare at him for a moment, not entirely able to believe that he just said that.

You cannot just _decide_ to wield the mystic arts. You have to be born able to wield them! If you could decide to wield them or not to wield them it would have saved my matim a fair amount of trouble if she just convinced me to _not_ wield the mystic arts and therefore _not_ damage my body from the inside-out.

I sigh and turn away from Wally, my grip on the key to the Tower of Fate – which I have not released since getting it, even when I changed into my civvies – tightening.

"We are reaching Tornado's coordinates now," reports M'gann, "but-"

"Nothing's there," finishes Superboy.

"Take us down," I order, highly doubting that there is nothing there.

Obviously, the Tower of Fate is magical. As such it, obviously, has some enchantments placed on it to protect it from people who are not supposed to be able to get into it.

We head out of the Bio-Ship and find ourselves standing on the edge of an apparently empty field. I scan the area, searching for something, anything, to suggest the presence of a mystical force.

My channels are tingling, but I am uncertain as to whether that is because of a large mystic force in the area or because of my anticipation. Perhaps both.

"Nothing on infrared," reports Superboy.

"I'll check it out," says Wally, pulling on his goggles. He darts away, a blur.

My grip on the key tightens, as if gripping it harder will encourage the Tower to show its secrets.

Okay. What do I know about Surface-World Mysticism? Well, I know that this is not, technically, Surface-World Magic, actually. This is Ancient Magic, neither Surface-World nor Atlantean. Therefore, what typifies Ancient Magic?

I feel as though I had an exam with the very same question on it once.

Cryptic answers run through my mind, most of which came from sorcerers themselves. Ancient Magic involves the Lords of Chaos and Order, including Doctor Fate. Ancient Magic involves the universe itself. It is what Zatara could have the option of dabbling in. It influences all of the magic that came after it, such as the most common Atlantean Magic today.

Ancient Magic came first so…the first solutions to problems were…what? Cryptic?

Riddles. Clues. You had to be clever to unlock their secrets. Learn how to think like the sorcerer who cast the enchantments. Okay, so the Tower of Fate. Focus on that. It was made by Doctor Fate, a Lord of Order. Order means rules and traditions. Order means logic. Think logically then. Logically clever.

"Nothing," reports Wally. "This isn't simple camouflage."

It never is, when the mystic arts are involved.

"So, what do you think?" asks Artemis. "Adaptive optic micro-electronics combined with phase-shifting?"

"Absolutely…not!" he says as he looks at M'gann. "Clearly," his voice squeaks and it looks physically painful for him to say it, "mystic powers are at work here!"

How do you find a tower? Or, more specifically, how do you _enter _a tower?

I grip the key tighter.

Tornado gave me the key for a reason. He had to have. Nelson would not have left the key with the League without a good reason. Obviously, it must be used in accessing the tower. In entering the tower. In…oh.

In unlocking the front door. Obviously.

I pull out the key and feel a flash of mystic energy. I frown, uncertain as to where it came from, and study the key for a moment. It says 'INSERT' on it. _Clearly, _I should be reading the instructions that go along with the instrument! Words to live by, really.

"Stand behind me," I order, stepping forward as the others step back. "A test of faith."

If anyone on this team believes in magic, it would be me, the one who actually uses it. I hope that will work to our advantage.

I move the key forward, trusting that it will find its place. Indeed, I feel resistance and, carefully, I turn it and hear something unlock. From the insertion of the key the tower forms, millions of bricks upon bricks rise to the sky as a single tower with one large wooden door twice my height. My spine tingles in anticipation and I cannot help but smirk as I push open the door.

I put the key back in my pocket and the door shuts behind the Team and I.

"Uh, where'd the door go?" asks Superboy.

I look around. We are in a windowless, doorless brick room with torches on the wall that give the room an eerie, flickering glow.

Very traditional. I suppose now there will be someone appearing that will either warn us or guide us to the next dimension within the Tower.

Garth did a project on the curses placed on ancient grounds once. He said that there were some similarities, time period to time period. Which is where the mystic clichés the Conservatory students frequently mock came about from.

A projection of Kent Nelson appears in front of me. It speaks, "Greetings. You have entered with a key but the Tower does not recognize you. Please, state your purpose and intent."

Warning it is.

I open my mouth and turn completely to face the projection to clearly show that I am not attempting to deceive the Tower.

Wally speaks first, "We are true believers here to find Doctor Fate!"

Oh no.

The Nelson projection tilts its head.

No.

The floor falls away.

_Heat_.

The sharp increase in temperature robs me of my breath more than the sudden fall. I feel sweat break out on my flesh and my clothing is immediately restrictive. Instinctively, I reach for the wall in an effort to not wind up being killed either by the heat itself or by sinking in lava.

Something slams against my back and a blonde ponytail obscures my vision as I twist, grabbing onto Artemis. Our feet hit the wall, her left arm clamps around my waist while her right stretches up to her crossbow, which apparently has a grappling arrow attached to it. My arms clamp around her shoulders and as soon as my heart stops leaping into my throat I consciously loosen my grip on her. She had been wincing under my grip. I may have bruised her shoulders.

"ARGH!"

Artemis and I glance down at Superboy lifting his feet out of the lava, bootless. He growls, "Those were my favourite boots. This Nelson guy better be worth it."

He is. He really is.

M'gann gasps and I look up, watching as her and Wally steadily drop while she tries to levitate both of them.

Right, she has the same weakness to heat as I do.

"Ha-having trouble maintaining altitude," she gasps, wiping her face as she continues to support Wally in the air. "I'm so hot."

My collar is getting soaked from my own sweat and breathing is getting steadily more difficult. I need water. Cold water. Now.

"You certainly are," Wally grins.

"Wally!" Artemis shouts.

"Hey! Inches above sizzling death I'm entitled to speak my mind!"

I take in a breath that nearly suffocates me. "My physiology, and M'gann's, are susceptible to extreme heat," I pause, trying to regain the ability to breathe normally, "we must climb out quickly."

Artemis' grasp on me tightens.

"Hello Megan! We never truly answered the question," M'gann says. "Red Tornado sent us," she shouts, breathing heavily, "to see if Mr. Nelson, and the Helmet, were safe!"

A brick platform forms above the lava. It removes the heat source and returns my ability to breathe normally. Artemis drops us to join Superboy on the platform, alongside M'gann and Wally.

I crouch, not feeling any heat rising from the platform to bake my toes. I press my hands against the platform and raise my eyebrows as I explain, "This platform should be red hot, but it is cool to the touch."

"Easy Megalicious, I got you-"

"Enough!" Artemis pushes Wally away form M'gann and against the wall. "Your little Impress Megan At All Costs game nearly got us all barbequed!"

"When did this become my fault?" he argues.

"When you _lied_ to that…whatever it was and called yourself a _true believer_!"

"Wally," M'gann straightens, frowning, "you don't believe?"

Wally looks between the two girls then shouts, "Fine! Fine, I lied about believing in magic! But magic is the real lie – a major load!"

I grow tense at the accusation.

It wasn't as if I attended the Conservatory of Sorcery, an entire institution built around magic. It wasn't as if it was magic that resulted in my broken finger. It wasn't as if it was magic that assisted in Ocean Master's defeat. It wasn't as if it was magic used to create my artificial channels slash tattoos slash skin icons that ensured I even survived past age 6!

_No, of_ _course magic is not real._

"Wally," I force myself to remain crouched, unwilling to make him even more defensive, plus there is a break in the platform that suggests a trap door that I wish to investigate, "I studied at the Conservatory of Sorcery in Atlantis. The mystic arts created the skin icons that power my water-bearers."

And saved my life.

"Dude, you ever hear of bioelectricity?" Wally retorts, almost patronizingly. "Hey, in primitive cultures _fire_ was once considered magical too! Today it's all just a bunch of tricks."

Was he now insinuating that Atlantis was _primitive_?

How tactless can you possibly get?

"You're pretty closed-minded for a guy that can break the sound barrier in his sneakers," Artemis comments.

"That's _science_. I recreated Flash's laboratory experiment and here I am! Everything can be explained by science."

I grit my teeth and grab the hidden handle for the trap door, "Let us test that theory."

"Wait!" Wally shouts. "The backdraft from the lava will roast us alive!"

Snowflakes fly up alongside cold air from the winter world below.

I drop into the winter world, much more comfortable in the cold than in the heat. The others follow, dropping as I did, down and then sideways thanks to how the door was positioned in the winter world.

It is indeed a winter world, filled with mountains and snow. Remarkable. I cannot help but smile, both at the cold and the obvious magic.

"Well?" Artemis asks as Wally turns away from the door as it vanishes.

"Ever hear of string theory?" Wally says. "We're in a pocket dimension."

I frown. We may be in a pocket dimension, but it was not created and maintained by science. It was created and maintained by magic, along with everything else inside the Tower.

"What's that?" asks M'gann.

We turn. My brow furrows at the sight of the cane floating in the air. Very suspicious.

"Oooo, maybe it's Nelson's magic wand," Wally mocks, darting past Artemis to grab it in the same instant as she does.

They shout in unison, "Hey! I can't let go!"

The cane glows and promptly sends them flying into the air where they vanish in a burst of yellow light.

I blink.

That was…less expected.

At least Superboy, M'gann and myself are not bothered by the cold.

"Let's go," I say, walking past them.

"Where?" Superboy asks, looking around.

"The Tower has a multitude of different worlds either within it or connected to it," I explain, battling to recall my classes. "Most are interconnected. Eventually we will find a door to get to another world, which will, hopefully, be where Wally and Artemis were transported to."

"Hopefully?"

"My knowledge of this branch of the mystic arts is minimal," I explain. "If this were an Atlantean tower I would be more help. There are patterns found in most branches of the mystic arts. The patterns change over time with the society and culture but most Atlantean ones I can pick out and understand, as well as a few of those associated with skinshifters, night creatures, or city magic."

Thank-you Chevy, Gina, Joa, Matim and Anassa.

"How many branches are there?" questions M'gann.

"Many upon many," I say. "Atlantean and Surface-World ones are two large branches, along with this sort of magic," I explain, spreading my arms to encompass the winter world, "which is ancient and not specifically Atlantean or Surface-World based. It is far too ancient to be either, as it came before both. Doctor Fate, the Sorcerer Supreme, uses this Ancient Magic, alongside with people such as Klarion, a Lord of Chaos. I use the Atlantean kind, dominantly. Zatara uses dominantly the Surface-World kind, although his range is quite large, larger than my own, so he has the potential to wield a number of other branches of the mystic arts.

"There are the branches within the primary branches, of course. Atlantean Magic can encompass the magic used by the Sirens specifically, for example, or the sorcery those at the Conservatory dominantly use, there is Combat Sorcery and Academic Sorcery, there is Shifting Sorcery – which is interconnected with the Shifting Sorcery of the Surface-World – and there is what is popularly called Dark Sorcery or Dark Magic."

"Dark Sorcery?" M'gann repeats.

"Curses and such," I explain. "Commonly used to guard the dead or sacred areas. It is not evil by its very nature, unlike that dark magic typified in the surface-world's fiction books about magic, it simply became called Dark Magic because of the beliefs of those who know little of the mystic arts, those who believed that most magic they encountered was meant to harm without cause. Which is far from correct. It was the usual people fearing what they do not understanding phenomena. Most of the magic under the so-called Dark Magic was used to protect what those who did not understand the mystic arts did not respect.

"Of course, there are also the mystic arts of the Elements, which are connected to the Ancient Mystic Arts most deeply, with different accepted traditions and procedures depending on where you are on the Surface-World or Atlantis. Elemental Mystic Arts are more common than most people think, simply because of their interconnectedness to each of the other major branches. I use a fair amount of them for manipulation of water and electricity. Zatara uses it quite a bit as well. Then there is the prevalence of the Fae, who are generally experts in Elemental Mystic Arts, as well as some of the mysticism associated with the mind."

"What sort of mind…mysticism?" questions M'gann.

"I am less well-versed in it but I believe some of it may be similar to your telepathy," I explain. "Most commonly I believe it is used to influence individuals, to affect decisions and such. In those places with a high prevalence of mysticism it is usually quite highly regulated and watched. It is also used for scrying."

"So…your tattoos are magical?"

"They are used to channel my magical energy and the magical energy of, for example, water," I explain. "So, yes, my channels are magical."

"'Channels' is the correct term?"

"Generally," I shrug. "For those with the non-visible ones at least. Mine are artificial, actually, similar to a prosthetic, because due to my human father I was not born with natural channels despite the fact that I was born with magical energy and the potential to use it. The lack of channels to assist in controlling the magical energy that was coursing through my body made the energy threaten to destroy the human, non-magical, part of my body. My mat-mother had to give me artificial channels so that my magical energy would not kill me from the inside-out. It was thought earlier on that if I gained a greater command of the mystic arts I would not have to have the channels any longer but…I do not believe that is true."

"You have to be biologically suited to using magic?" Superboy questions incredulously.

"Yes," I nod. "Which may be why magic has such a negative effect on Kryptonians. The Kryptonian physiology may be particularly ill-suited to magical energy, hence the negative effect no matter the spell or enchantment used. People like Zatara though are built with the ability to channel, distribute, and use their own magical energy and that of other creatures or objects. Which is why magical attacks have less of an effect on him, myself, or even Wonder Woman."

Superboy frowns.

Did he even know of his vulnerability to magic?

Well, he does now.

"I don't understand Wally," M'gann comments. "It's almost like he needs to believe the impossible can't happen."

"Wally…" I sigh. "He likes to know and understand things, it gives him a measure of control over what is to come. He uses his knowledge of science to explain what he cannot comprehend. To acknowledge the existence of magic would be to relinquish that last vestige of control."

"You seem to understand magic though," she objects. "You were taught in a school about it. Like how science is taught. Maybe if Wally understood how magic works he wouldn't be as…frightened of it."

"Perhaps," I acknowledge. "But there are points where magic and science intersect, both in complimentary ways and contradictory ways. Those are difficult points to bridge, especially when one has not been educated in the mystic arts _while _learning about science. To learn about the mystic arts after having been educated solely in the scientific fields would result in questioning the scientific fields without restraint. The same would occur were you to do the reverse. To do such a thing is exceedingly challenging and would result in a difficult paradigm shift that many would be unwilling to commit to."

M'gann falls silent and studies the ground.

_Creeeeek! Fwoosh!_

We look up to find snow settling around a set of stairs atop a nearby hilltop below a doorway. Without discussion we head to the stairs.

"Oof!"

The doorway opened in the tower in the middle of the air. I hit the floor face first. Superboy lands on top of me, conveniently. He gets off me, muttering an apology, and I stand as Artemis darts over to us. Wally is behind her with Kent Nelson.

_Zzap!_

A bolt of electricity masquerading as magic juts over our heads. I dart to the side and onto a higher platform of the ridiculously complicated Penrose stairs that encompass this entire centre of the tower.

The guy shooting at us is Abra Kadabra. He is not magical, at all. Just has some future tech he uses to pretend he is magical. It irritates me, much like Wally's comment about how he once almost decided to be a wizard. Abra Kadabra's attempted imitation of the mystic arts is an insult to those who actually practise the mystic arts and train for years in its usage.

_::: He's a fake, ::: _says Artemis as M'gann establishes a psychic link. _::: But the guy he was with, Klarion- :::_

I cut in sharply, my eyes widening as I turn instinctively to Artemis, _::: Klarion?! We cannot- :::_

"ARGH!" I scream, buckling as Abra Kadabra manages to hit me while I'm distracted.

I hit the ground, the energy crackling over me as a cage. My channels glow instinctively and I fight to refocus and send the energy away from me with some _real_ magic.

_::: You know who Klarion – Superboy! :::_

I grit my teeth and try to respond to Artemis' half-finished question. It does not work.

I feel the psychic link go down as Artemis is hit and soon after M'gann is as well.

It hurts. Poseidon, it _hurts_.

Then, it's gone. I stand quickly ignoring my aching muscles, and find Abra Kadabra wide-eyed and standing there in nothing but his briefs.

"Show's over," says Superboy and promptly punches him, knocking him out.

"Is everyone well?" I question, glancing back at the girls.

They nod.

"You know about Klarion?" asks Artemis.

"I studied at the Conservatory of Sorcery," I answer. "The Lords of Chaos and Order were important figures. Klarion is a Lord of Chaos. He is…beyond powerful."

"Lord of Order is Doctor Fate."

I nod in confirmation, "The Helmet of Fate is where Doctor Fate – Nabu as he is referred to in the old scriptures – resides. When one puts on the Helmet he or she becomes a host for Nabu. That is how Nabu remains in this dimension, as Doctor Fate and the Sorcerer Supreme. The Kent Nelson version of Doctor Fate was who my class focused on when we were studying them."

"That's great," says Superboy, clearly not particularly interested. "How do we get out of here?"

I hesitate and turn, studying the Penrose Stairs around us. I point, "The bell."

M'gann grabs Artemis and they fly up to the bell. Superboy and I jump.

"Do we just…ring it?" asks Superboy.

"You don't," I say, stepping toward the bell and sending energy down my channels, causing them to light up. I press my hand to the bell and send a blast of my own mystic energy into it, asking the bell to prompt the Tower to release my Team and Kent.

Thank Poseidon it listens. The Tower vanishes and my hand touches nothing while the three others stand behind me on the grass.

"Wally!" M'gann exclaims.

I turn. Wally is kneeling next to Kent Nelson with the Helmet of Fate beside him. He looks up sharply, his eyes wide, "What? Where'd the Tower go?"

"I asked it to release us," I answer, striding toward him.

"You…asked a building…" Wally trails off as I crouch across from him next to Nelson.

I search for Nelson's pulse and find nothing. I lick my lips, struggling to find the best reaction to the death of one of the most important mystical figures of our time.

"He…stayed in the Helmet," Wally explains anxiously. "So that Nabu didn't keep me."

My eyes flick to Wally. I nod in understanding. He seems to relax slightly at my understanding and subtly leans away from the Helmet.

Nelson then is not so much dead as in a coma, seeing as his lifeforce and consciousness are in the Helmet now rather than his body. Somehow, that does not seem much better.

I grab the Helmet and determine, "We will bring Nelson to the Cave, and the Helmet. It must be protected."

This is not how I had thought this mission would go.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 20, 2010 – 03:40 EDT**

I sit in my bedroom, staring at the tablet, trying to will the mission report to just spontaneously appear upon it.

Nelson is, for all intents and purposes, gone. Doctor Fate is gone. The Sorcerer Supreme was defeated by Klarion, a Lord of Chaos. Klarion knows of this Team. I have heard of his exploits and I am far from happy about him knowing of the Team for that reason. He is dangerous.

Wally, of all people, wound up playing the part of Doctor Fate for a bit. It is good that he was not trapped in that part, he would not have enjoyed it I bet – not that I really know what occurred when he put on the Helmet, as he has not told anyone yet – but…why him?

Selfishly, I would have preferred it to be me. I am, after all, the mystical member of this team. Not that it helped much, on our most magical heavy mission yet but I think my point still stands.

The man who was the most important mystical individual of my time…is gone.

It is surreal.

Nabu is still around, of course, but…it is not the same.

I want to know what happened to Wally while he was inside the Helmet. I really want to know. Perhaps Batman will find out and then tell me. It would be valuable information for me to have, surely, as team leader. Right? Maybe?

Probably not.

I swallow and pull up my old notes on Doctor Fate. I always keep my old notes. Who knows when they will come in handy?

These notes serve only to remind me of Atlantis and how, not exactly terribly, but _unsatisfactorily _this most recent mission went.

I switch to my matim's most recent email, which may help distract me from the Doctor Fate incident. I hope.

oOoOo

**Sender: **sla_jc  
**Date: **Wed, 18 August 2010 12:02:16 -0200  
**From: **Sha'lain'a D  
**Organization: **Angelia Graphikos  
**To: **knightlight  
**Subject: **Morning Gossip

Kalla,

Things are going well here in Shayeris. Your patera has being doing a few interesting jobs for the local government, trying to break past their system's blockades mostly, and he's enjoying it. The new hires are doing well and although something about Coci does still seem off she is an absolute delight!

There was some interesting gossip this morning though. A man came by searching for a gift for his husband, they had just moved here from Poseidonis. He mentioned that he was very glad they had chosen to move when they did. His reason was very intriguing. They lived by the Conservatory and apparently they had witnessed some growing altercations between "impure" students and "pure" students. They think there may be some growing Purist influence in the Conservatory. More than what you saw. I'm glad you're not going there anymore, but I am concerned for your friends. Tula and Garth should be fine, but that Lori – I love her just from your descriptions, she sounds so determined – and your two adorable little fans, Topo and La'gaan, won't be so lucky I think.

You know I do not wish to put more on your plate right now. I know this leadership thing must be difficult for you, it's such a change from what you're used to, and being away from Atlantis for so long must be taking its toll. But, if the rumors are true then Poseidonis may be in for some trouble from the Purists.

Do not worry about informing Orin or Mera. I am going to email them about the rumors right after I send this one to you, but I wanted you to know about the possibility.

Your patera and I miss you, come visit when you get a chance! And remember to take care of yourself!

Hugs and kisses!  
Matim

oOoOo

_Knock. Knock._

"Come in," I call.

Superboy walks into my room.

"Superboy, what can I do for you?" I ask cheerfully.

"Wondered if you wanted to spar," he says with a shrug.

"Once and a mission wasn't enough for you?" I chuckle. I do not particularly wish to spar right now. I am getting tired. The adrenaline from the mission is wearing off.

He shrugs.

I frown, sensing there's something else at play here, "Is it the mission? Nelson?"

There's a twitch.

"He is not, technically, dead," I explain.

"He's in the Helmet, what's the difference?" asks Superboy bitterly.

"The difference is that there is a chance of his consciousness returning to his body. It is minimal, considering his age, but it remains there. Sometimes, one must hold onto such hope, no matter how minimal," I say.

Superboy frowns.

"I admit, it is easier to treat him as dead," I sigh. "And it is difficult to lose someone during a mission. But, in many situations such as this, the person we lost knew what the risks were when they got involved. They made their choice."

"Stupid choice."

"Not necessarily. If Nelson did not make the choice he did, we would likely have Wally as the new Doctor Fate."

"He doesn't even believe in magic."

"I know."

Superboy snorts, "Yeah, that'd be bad. Who else could become Doctor Fate though?"

"Someone who has an affinity for the mystic arts and believes in them, would be ideal," I say.

"So you?"

"Yes."

He's silent for a moment, "You would become Doctor Fate?"

"If I had to, yes."

"Not for awhile though."

"I would like to get past my teens before I dedicate my life to being Doctor Fate, yes," I agree.

"I didn't know I was vulnerable to magic," he adds. "I knew about kryptonite but not that."

I remain silent, sensing his need for it.

"Do you think there's other stuff I don't know about being a Kryptonian? Like…when I'll be able to fly, or something?"

"Perhaps," I answer honestly.

"Superman isn't going to tell me, is he?"

"It is unlikely at this point in time," I admit. "The Team will help in anyway they can though."

"Okay." He hesitates, "You've spoken to Superman, right?"

I nod silently.

"There a reason for…this?" he asks, gesturing nowhere in particular.

For a moment, I do not respond, instead silently trying to find the right response. I sigh, "I could say that it is the surprise and the shock that comes from the violation of his body but…I honestly do not know. I do not know how I would react to being cloned. I do not know how I would react to any of this." I set the tablet to the side and rise from my bed, "I do know, however, that wishing for him to come and be a mentor to you may result in missing what is right in front of you."

He frowns, but does not pull away, surprisingly. Instead, he asks, "What do you mean?"

"I mean just because you have Superman's DNA does not mean that he is your only possible mentor or parental-figure. There are other people, and if Superman is not going to step up then maybe one of them should and perhaps that person just needs a little prompting from the person they would be mentoring."

"Who'd want to mentor the angry superstrong clone of the 'Greatest Superhero'?" he scoffs.

"I would."

Abashed surprise crosses his face then he looks at the ground in embarrassment. Yes, he should have realized that was what I was going to say.

"Look," I say, putting my hands on my hips.

He looks up sharply, his eyes widening slightly at my abrupt change in tone.

"I can help you with the superstrength," I continue. "I can help teach you how to use it to your advantage and how it can and will be used against you. I can help you with Earth's various cultures. I'm not your mother though-"

He snorts.

I smirk, "I can't be that type of mentor, but there are people frequently in the Cave who would slide into that role if you just let them."

He frowns and crosses his arms, "Batman has-"

"Black Canary. Red Tornado. Take your pick."

He blinks, "Oh."

I raise my eyebrows, feeling rather satisfied with myself, and pat his shoulder, "It'll work out Superboy. Besides, I know that Pansy's Dad still considers you one of his kids. Contacting him is always an option, and my parents' offer is still open."

"Superboy, there you are!" exclaims M'gann happily, pausing in the doorway of my room with Wally hovering behind her.

Last I checked my bedroom was not the centre of the Cave.

"Thank-you for telling me about Pansy wanting a reply to her email, Superboy," I say. "I really should check my email more often."

"Uh, yeah, no problem," he responds, walking out of my room.

"Have you ever been to a magic show?" M'gann asks Superboy.

"Uh, no?" says Superboy.

"Wally got tickets!"

"I thought you hated magic," I say, looking at Wally.

He shoots a glare at me, clearly well aware of my petty attempt to sabotage his attempt to woo M'gann, "I don't _hate_ it. I just think the glowing stuff is overdone."

"I appreciate that," I say dryly.

"But Kalla glows…" points out M'gann.

"He knows," I say, still focusing on Wally.

Wally shrugs, "Lots of creatures glow, you know, like _glow_worms. Bioluminescence. It's for communication, camouflage, stuff like that."

"Mine is artificial."

"Scientists made monkeys glow."

"Yes, but that glowing was not triggered by mystical energy," I point out.

"Because 'mystical energy' isn't real. It's just an explanation made by primitive cultures to explain something they can't understand."

"Please stop calling Atlantis primitive," I request as M'gann and Superboy quickly dart away from our argument.

"I'm not calling Atlantis primitive."

"Atlantean culture is based around science and magic. You are calling those cultures that use magic 'primitive'. How else am I supposed to take that?"

"Okay, yeah, there's that, but you even said that a lot of Atlantis is based around _science_. It's not primitive, just…misinformed, I guess."

"Misinformed."

He blanches, presumably from my expression, and comments, "I'm digging a hole for myself aren't I?"

I grab his wrist, "Come on, Wally."

"What? Where are we going? Hey, where'd M'gann go?"

"We are going to the library where I will show you the collection of Atlantean works on magic and how it works, so that, when you decide to call the mystic arts a bunch of lies you will be educated when doing so. M'gann left."

"But I don't-"

"Team-building exercise."

"Without the rest of the team?"

"Yes."

"But I need sleep!"

"You were chasing after M'gann not five minutes ago, Wally."

"Yeah, to make sure she knew about the magic show tomorrow!"

"And I am making sure that you cease insulting my people and myself."

"Okay, okay, okay!"

I release him. He holds up his hands in the universal declaration of peace, palms facing me.

"Okay, I was stupid," he says.

"It does not matter to me whether you believe in magic or not," I sigh, crossing my arms. "What does bother me is when you equate believing in it with being stupid or primitive and in doing so call not only _my people_ but _myself_, stupid and primitive."

"Okay, I'm sorry you took it that way."

"That is not an apology on behalf of your actions, Wally. That is an apology for my interpretation of them," I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

"Oh. Uh, then I'm sorry I said that stuff?"

"For future reference, an apology should not be a question."

"Uh, right, sorry." He looks at his wrist, "I think you bruised my wrist."

"Apologies, I did not intend..." I stop, realizing I am doing what I told Wally not to do. I shake my head, "Apologies. I should have watched my strength. I can bandage that if you wish."

"No, I've got it. I'll be quicker." He rubs his wrist uncomfortably, "What was with that, anyway? I mean, I get that I disrespected your culture and stuff but you're not – you've never been angry like that, ever."

"I am tired," I say. "My patience lessens when I am tired. Apologies."

He doesn't look entirely convinced, which is not surprising as it is more my stress than simply my exhaustion that has contributed to my lesser temper.

"You should get some sleep," I say. "You are in school, after all."

"Ugh, don't remind me," he huffs.

"Wrap that," I remind him as he walks past me.

"Yeah, got it _Mom_," he retorts before darting off.

I grimace at the term 'mom'.

I trudge back to my bedroom, turn off my tablet, and move it to my desk. My clock says it is 4 in the morning. I groan and stare at the books covering my bed.

"I am sleeping in the pool," I explain as I pass Superboy and M'gann in the living room, neither of whom require much sleep – Kryptonian, Martian – and are clearly taking advantage of that fact.

M'gann chirps an acknowledgement.

I fall into the pool, momentarily silently whine about the lack of a bed or a pod to sleep in, and then fall asleep at the bottom of it. It becomes one of the better rests I've had in awhile despite the lack of material comforts. Dreaming of Tula, I have no doubt, contributed to that well-rested feeling.

* * *

**A/N: **I really needed some Kalla & Wally bonding time but Kaldur & Wally in the show have about two conversations where it's just the two of them so I am pulling scenarios out of a hat. They're so _different_ which makes getting them in the same room, let alone _talking_ very difficult. Their friendship will be slow developing, to say the least.

Coci shall return in the next Sha'lain'a chapter.

Early this month I wrote ahead with this story by about 5-ish chapters, hence the quick updates. I know next semester I will have very little time for anything besides school and applying for internships so I'm trying to do as much as I can now, when I have free time. We'll see how that goes.

**R&R**


	22. Kalladura'ham 17

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice #12: The Pendulum, Young Justice #13: ...And The Penalty and Young Justice Episode 108: Downtime._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, minor burns**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love."_

Elie Wiesel

* * *

**17**

**Gotham City, Connecticut : August 27, 2010 – 04:47 EDT**

The news from Matim of the growing Purist unrest remains in my mind. I may not be involved in the recovery of the Kolpos area but the issue of the Purists is always going to be one I am involved in, simply due to my status as one of the Atlanteans they deem Impure and my status as Aqualass. I should be in Atlantis assisting with the investigations into the Purists.

I should be communicating with those the Purists will be targeting, such as Lori, Topo, La'gaan or Blubber. I should be speaking more frequently with King Nanaue Sha'ark about how the Purist situation is developing either in their favour or not in his city-state. I should not be receiving that information from sources such as my matim, no matter how reliable she claims her sources are.

I should be with Tula, and Garth. I want to be with them. Tula, well, more, but being with both of them around Poseidonis publically would be advantageous for the cause of those against the Purists. Giving the Purists a reminder of the fact that I exist and am friends with those they term "Pure" despite I myself being "Impure" would hopefully shake them up, perhaps even cause one of them to make a mistake.

I still have not written Tula. Or Garth for that matter.

Hopefully, that will not be a barrier if – when – I return to Poseidonis. Tula will greet me, smiling brilliantly. I hope, at least.

_::: Aqualass! Are you __**linked**__? :::_

I barely manage to restrain my jump and respond quickly, _::: Oh. Yes, Miss Martian. Your psychic link functions perfectly. :::_

_::: That's a relief. We couldn't hear you, it was like your every thought was a million miles away. :::_

Something like that.

I suppose I should be focusing on the mission at hand.

Assigned by Batman, the Team – minus Artemis, who was elsewhere, Batman did not tell us where – was ordered to proceed to Gotham City where we would track a creature lose in the city. It was, according to Robin who had initially engaged the creature with Batman, a creature made of clay Robin had promptly nicknamed Clayface. We were not given a reason for how it came to be or how it wound up in Gotham City, but did know that it had entered the sewers. Hence, our current location.

Usually, I am quite fine in sewers. My sense of smell is not as acute as the others, which is an advantage at times. However, this one is rather filthier than some of the other sewers I have been in, a fact which I am beginning to think is simply a Gotham City thing.

The debris in the water makes me want to puke, as it reminds me far too acutely of Kolpos and the spill. Suffice to say, I have absolutely no desire to swim in it. The water laps lightly at the walkway we are using as we attempt to track Clayface and it turns my stomach each time it hits the walkway. Water is not supposed to look like that.

"HEY!" Kid Flash shouts and I turn, simultaneously wrapping my right hand over my water-bearer, just in time to get a face full of mud, or, I suppose, clay.

I hear the team shout over the psychic link as they're all grabbed by Clayface's various appendages. I hit the wall and barely manage to not vomit as I taste a piece of the clay. The clay retreats from my mouth and my channels glow as my grip on my right water-bearer tightens. The clay retreats from my face, allowing me to see, and I take my chance, inwardly cursing myself for not focusing and sensing the disturbance in the water.

I slam a water-blade down through the clay arm covering my body. Immediately, I drop and hit the water-soaked walkway.

I bring the water up as Robin's birdarangs explode, freeing him. Miss Martian shouts and creates a telekinetic bubble that sends the clay flying away from her. Kid Flash whips his arm around, dislodging enough clay for him to get out. The sewer water I manipulate slices up through the clay pinning Superboy and he drops, grimacing as Clayface retreats both down and backwards.

Do not vomit. Do not vomit. Do not vomit, Kalla.

"That was unpleasant," comments Miss Martian as she flies up, dripping pieces of clay, "like tangling with a rabid Ma'alefa'ak on Mars."

What did she do on Mars where she was tangling with rabid Ma'alefa'aks? Whatever those were.

"Unpleasant, sure," says Kid Flash, "but kinda easy. That thing was a pushover. What the heck was Batman worried about?"

_FWOOM! SPLASH!_

I whirl around, catching a glimpse of Clayface's various fists slamming into my teammates as a fifth stretches out to me. I flip up my water-bearers, creating a shield with the disgusting sewer water, and tighten my stance as his fist collides with my shield. A sixth fist emerges and promptly slams into my gut, sending me crashing back into the water.

My gills flare in recognition of the water and my eyes widen. I shoot up, hacking and grabbing my gills to ensure nothing got in them. Absolutely disgusting.

I grimace as I drop a handful of clay into the water then pick up my water-bearers. Clayface is gone.

::: Batman to Team. Report status. Have you encountered the creature? :::

I lick my lips, grimace at the sensation, then report, "Yes, Batman, although the encounter was far from successful."

::: Tell me everything that occurred. I want details. :::

"If that's Batman, ask him where Artemis is? And how come she gets away with skipping this so-fun sewer party?" says Kid Flash.

At least when he gets hit into the water his instincts do not scream _INHALE_.

I feel like my gills have been violated.

**05:59 EDT**

While I was daydreaming…sort of...is it daydreaming when one imagines what they will due to the next Purist they see giving their friends a hard time?

I suppose it could count.

The Tula stuff was definitely daydreaming though.

Point is, while I was "otherwise occupied" the rest of the Team had come up with a plan. Frankly, I am glad I did not have to come up with a plan. I am…I suppose the correct term would be "homesick." I miss Atlantis. Everything up here is so dry and while I have spent long amounts of time on the surface, particularly when I was a child, I have more in Atlantis. I have closer friends, I have more responsibilities I feel more of a need to perform to the best of my ability – not that I do not do the same here, but the emotions behind it are different – and with the Purist activity I feel as though I should be in Atlantis, not here.

Plus, at this point my activities on the surface consist of being Aqualass, studying strategy and tactics and how to be team leader, training, trying to convince myself to email Tula, and occasionally wondering what Roy is doing. It is boring. Also, in Atlantis I do not have to hide my gills and webbing which is a distinct plus.

This is a frustrating mission, solely because I do not wish to be on a mission today. I suppose, though, the Team will benefit from being able to at least punch Clayface. They seem restless, used to beating up criminals every other night, not doing an investigative mission followed by a mission that involved more non-combat magic than combat, and then simply training for the rest of the time.

There must have been a reason though for Batman telling the Team not to engage. At this point however I am considering that the reason may be simply that Batman does not want outsiders to Gotham City taking down a criminal in Gotham City. After all, Gotham City criminals are Batman's responsibility, much like Annex and myself consider the criminals of Atlantis to be our responsibility and as such no one else needs to get involved. That belief is, I am certain, partially influenced by ego.

::: Guys, I found the creature! ::: exclaims Superboy over our com-link – perhaps I should have suggested a psychic link, it's so much more simpler. ::: Rendezvous at my coordinates! :::

The connection fizzles and I dart down the aisle between the shelves and the western outside wall. I order, inwardly cursing, "Superboy? Superboy, report status."

I get nothing but static. Damn. I really should have gotten Miss Martian to establish a psychic link.

Internally swearing, I slow, well aware that I was now effectively on my own. I would have to be cautious.

I crouch near a stain on the floor and lightly press the tips of my fingers against it. Mud or clay, one of the two. Either way, Clayface would have to remain here. He would not be able to get out without going through other members of the Team. He is still in the building, that is certain. Now, I simply needed to find either him or the rest of the Team.

"AH!"

_THUMP!_

Miss Martian!

I turn sharply, heading back down the aisle I had come from. I slow as I approach the end of it and, ready with my water-bearers, I dart out of the aisle. There is nothing there.

Dammit.

I look to the ceiling, hoping to see clay dripping from the rafters. There is nothing there though. Nor is there anything on the ground.

I sneak to the opposite side of the building to where I recall one of the exits was, intent on guarding it.

I should not have agreed to this plan. We did not know all of the enemy's capabilities. I am a fool. Against an enemy such as this we should have performed a coordinated attack. Batman will surely fire me if Annex does not get to me first.

Robin lands in front of the door. Relief spreads through my body and I dart forward, "Have you heard from the Team?"

"No. Sorry, Beautiful," he answers.

My breath pauses in my throat as I glance behind me for any sign of, well, anyone.

_Beautiful? What?_

I resume breathing properly as I turn back to 'Robin.' I take a step forward with my hands tensed and ready to grab my water-bearers.

"What of Clayface?" I inquire with little inflection.

"Clayface?" he repeats, sounding confused despite the fact that Robin was the one who named our foe. "Uh, no, not here."

His cape moves unnaturally. His language is all wrong. In what world does Robin call me 'Beautiful'? None, that's it. Absolutely none. This is creepy.

I dart forward, a water-mace forming from my right water-bearer. Clayface-Robin reacts immediately, growing exponentially and forming a mace of his own three times the size of my head that he brings down toward me. I block with my own mace, gripping the staff of the hardwater in my free hand. He is strong, unsurprisingly. But I am just as strong.

"_Oof!"_

A third fist snaps out of Clayface's belly and impacts with my gut, sending me crashing backwards. I get to my feet, dazed, and clay wraps around me, sending me soaring up into the air. Clayface comes out of nowhere and I don't have time to block even the smallest piece of him. He sends me crashing down to the ground at an angle that makes me hit the ground on my side, denting the ground, and then sends me tumbling. My head hits the door and I see stars as I hit the ground facefirst.

Everything hurts. My torso is completely bruised from the first attack, where the clay wrapped around my torso. My head is ringing from the hit against the door. My muscles are sore, and now my water-pack is digging uncomfortably into my bruised back thanks to the slam against the door.

I press my hands against the ground and look up as Clayface approaches, a massive hammer forming out of his right hand. He is going to crush me. I am going to die because of my own stupidity.

I should have sent an email to Tula.

Clayface roars and raises his hammer. A dark shape forms behind him in the skylights above; a Bat.

Batman crashes through the skylights just as Clayface turns to see what I am looking at. Something explodes and Clayface stumbles backward an instant before Batman shoots some sort of taser at him, sending electricity ripping through Clayface. Clayface loses his grasp on his morphing ability and collapses into a puddle of, well, clay.

This has to be a joke. _Electricity_ is Clayface's weakness? But I – why did I not think of that?! I am the electrical one!

I internalize a groan as Batman just _looks_ at me with a look unnervingly similar to the one my matim gives me when she is disappointed in me. It seems to be flavoured with a bit of anger as well, a fact that only makes the look worse. Apparently satisfied that I am not dead he turns to retrieve the rest of the Team, vanishing into the shadows.

I groan and drop my head back to the floor. I feel humiliated.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 27, 2010 – 07:58 EDT**

"I need to talk to Aqualass. The rest of you, hit the showers and head home," orders Batman as we enter the Cave.

"Home?" Superboy repeats bitterly. "I _am_ home."

I step forward and pause in front of Batman. Robin stops beside me.

"_Just_ Aqualass," says Batman.

I glance down at Robin. He looks at me with an unreadable expression then follows the rest of the Team.

I hesitate before speaking, "I am sorry you had to intervene. I know the Team performed poorly-"

"The _Team_ performed adequately," Batman cuts me off. "The problem was _you_. You're their leader and your head wasn't in the game."

"No!" I object instinctively, "You are-" I pause and draw back, a sigh pulled from my mouth, "correct."

I lick my lips and wrap my arms around myself as I stare at my feet, trying to figure out how much I am supposed to tell Batman.

"Of late, I am not even convinced I belong on the surface world. I…this was my dream. The surface-world, the League, it filled my every thought, but now that I am here," I look up at him uncertainly, "my dreams are all Atlantis."

"Atlantis, or someone you left behind?" he clarifies.

My eyes widen. I should not be surprised that he recognizes my half-lie. He is Batman. Of course he knows.

"You can split your time between the surface and the sea, but not your mind," Batman continues. "Either you're here _one hundred percent_, or you need to walk away. Make a decision Kalla, and make it soon."

I must go to Atlantis then.

* * *

**Poseidonis, Atlantis : August 27, 2010 – 13:00 UTC-03**

/ Recognized, Aqualass B02. /

I take a moment to adjust to being underwater again, my gills flaring, delighted with the cleaner water to breathe. I swim forward, spotting Annex Orin waiting for me as promised when I contacted him before taking the zeta-tube here.

"Greetings, Kalladura'ham," he smiles at me, opening his arms wide.

I salute, "Annex Orin."

How long has it been since I have seen him? We have gone long amounts of time without seeing one another, it happens with his duties and my training, but usually I am still within Atlantis when it occurs.

He lets his arms fall, returns the salute and remarks, "It has been long since Atlantis has last seen you."

"Apologies, Annex," I say. "The Team does keep me busy."

"Come, swim with me."

Likely showing more eagerness than I do normally I swim beside him out of the zeta-tube area of Poseidonis. We swim in silence for a few moments before Annex says, "Batman has been keeping me informed of your missions with the Team."

Worry flashes through my mind, "You have been receiving my reports though, correct Annex?"

"Of course," he assures me. "Batman is keeping the mentors of the individual members of the Team informed of their progress, you are still minors after all and at the very least us mentors must be kept informed of what you have been doing if not your parents themselves." He smiles at me, "I never did get a chance to congratulate you in-person on becoming the Team's leader. Atlantis is proud of its heroine, as am I."

I feel my cheeks heat up and I smile sheepishly, "Aquaman is Atlantis' hero. I am just his protégé."

"Perhaps he is a hero, but most of what Aquaman does is, as you know, on the surface-world under the aegis of the Justice League," Annex says. "In Atlantis, it is Annex Orin who operates most effectively, rather than Aquaman. Aquaman is a hero for the surface-world on behalf of Atlantis. _Aqualass _is the heroine of Atlantis now."

I fall silent, unsure how to respond to that.

"Anassa and I are hosting an intimate dinner tonight," Annex says, changing the topic as if he senses my unease. "You will attend?"

I hesitate. I had wanted to spend my time with Tula tonight. Suck it up and tell her how I felt, preferably, in a less casual setting than normal.

"Annex," I say, "there is someone…special I had wished to see tonight."

He chuckles and I feel my cheeks heating up again as he remarks, "You may invite a friend."

"Thank-you, Annex."

"Until tonight then," he says, turning down the corridor that led deeper into the palace. I turn down the opposite corridor, heading outside of the palace.

* * *

**Conservatory of Sorcery, Poseidonis, Atlantis : August 27, 2010 – 13:16 UTC-03**

I spot Topo within moments of entering the Conservatory, just past where Lori was practicing what seemed to be a translation spell. I had headed to the area the more artistically inclined students tend to gather around for practice. Topo was, unsurprisingly, working on a piece of mystical artwork. It seemed to be a mosaic enchanted to tell a story.

I crack a smile when I spot myself in the mosaic. He was doing a story about me, and, apparently Garth, King Orin and Ocean Master. Cute.

"I'll never finish in time!" Topo exclaims, having not seen me. He continues to frantically work on the mosaic.

"Topo," I say and he jumps, whirling around, "the workmanship is magnificent."

"Kalla!" he shouts, calming down. "Wait, wait," he holds his hand out to the mosaic and the pieces shimmer and move, "watch. Listen."

The mosaic pieces move about, following Topo's voice and forming the scenes to accompany what he says, "Our beloved king was at the mercy of the vile Ocean Master! But two young students, Kalladura'ham and Garth, intervened, allowing the Aquaman to triumph!"

I touch the back of my head, where I had once had a ponytail before slicing it off in the battle against Ocean Master. Turned out, I preferred short hair for combat.

A stylized and dramatized version of Annex offering the positions of protégé to myself and Garth spirals onto the mosaic as Topo speaks, "Impressed with their valour, Aquaman offered both young heroes the opportunity to be his protégé. Garth chose to continue his studies at the Conservatory of Sorcery."

I hide a smile as I realize the image of Garth practising his mystic arts also has Topo in the background looking on.

"But the _brave _Kalla accepted her king's offer and became – Aqualass!"

I would be willing to refute the claim that it was bravery that prompted me to take on the position. As I recall, it was more me unwilling to remain behind, struggling and mocked for my lesser capabilities in the mystic arts, than it was me being brave.

"Kalla – uh, I mean – Aqualass?" Topo prods.

I smile, "It is very good, Topo. I am sure there are many in Atlantis who would enjoy seeing this."

"I, uh, thought about showing it to some of the younger children who visit the Conservatory," Topo admits. "Thought they might like it. All the colours and the magic and stuff, you know."

I nod distractedly, "I am sure they would."

"Oh, thank-you. Um, do you think it's alright if I put myself in? I know I was not really there but-"

"It is fine. Do you know where I might find Tula? And Garth?"

"On the roof," he answers confidently, "at their studies."

"Thank-you, Topo," I nod then ascend.

I approach the roof to find Queen Mera tutoring Garth and Tula. She beams upon seeing me, calling, "Kalladura'ham, it is good to see you!"

Garth and Tula look to me immediately. Tula grins, "Kalla!"

"Apologies, my Queen," I say, saluting her.

"It is well," she says. "I have another class. Will I see you at dinner?"

"Yes, your majesty," I confirm.

"We shall talk then."

"You look well, Kalla," says Tula the instant Queen Mera is gone and I turn to them. She hugs me tightly.

"Yes," says Garth as Tula and I release one another. "Surface life agrees with you."

I pull him in for a hug as well, noting that he has grown since I last saw him. He seems to be filling out, after years of being a bit of a beanpole. His shoulders are more obviously broader than mine now.

"You speak as if I have been gone for years," I say, pulling away from Garth. "But it has only been-"

"Two months," they say in unison.

"Oh," I say. "That long? Then I must make up for lost time." I turn to Tula, "Tula, will you accompany me to diner tonight, at the palace?"

This is so awkward, not inviting Garth. But it was only one guest so…

They look at one another and I turn to Garth, "I wish I could invite you as well."

"I made that choice long ago," he says.

"We have another class," says Tula, pulling on Garth's arm. "But I will see you tonight."

They swim away.

That was…more awkward than expected. At least this will give me an opportunity to finally tell Tula of my feelings, and no matter her response I am prepared. I have considered the possibility of her simply not being attracted to women. I have considered the possibility of her simply considering me a friend. I am prepared. I will do this. It will be successful, no matter what, and even if it does not work out as I hope it will then Tula and I will still be friends and eventually my feelings will, hopefully, fade with time.

After all, there is no point in holding affections for someone when that person does not return said affections. Right?

* * *

**National Palace of Atlantis, Poseidonis : August 27, 2010 – 18:00 UTC-03**

"A gigantic echinoderm!" exclaims Prince Orm at dinner, speaking of a recent discovery by the Science Centre. "Frozen, yet still alive. Of course, at this point our data is quite limited. But Dr. Vulko thinks-"

Fascinating, but I have a goal in mind here.

I whisper to Tula, "I am considering re-joining you at the Conservatory."

Her eyes widen. She looks concerned for some reason.

"You realize you left your studies some time ago," says Queen Mera softly. "Your sorcery skills have not kept to pace. You would no longer be in Tula's class, or, Garth's."

I glance at Tula, "Perhaps I will require a tutor."

She shoves a piece of fish in her mouth and doesn't say anything.

I cannot tell if she is simply acting odd because I have not been here for a while or if it is my words that are causing her to act odd. Regardless, I try and keep myself from attempting to flirt for the rest of the meal and instead pay closer attention to what Prince Orm is saying about the "gigantic echinoderm." It does, actually, sound quite interesting and I know that Dr. Vulko, the scientist in charge of the study, is more than capable of uncovering its secrets.

"It is going to be fascinating to discover where the creature came from," Prince Orm finishes, grinning with all his teeth showing.

"Indeed," his older brother, King Orin, agrees. "For now though," he glances at Queen Mera, "we have an announcement."

They rise slightly and Queen Mera explains, placing a hand over her stomach, "I am with child."

I shoot up, along with my eyebrows, and Tula. Our heads clonk together at our sharp movements, and we both grimace while pulling away sharply.

"I am so sorry," I say, moving quickly to Tula.

"Apologies, apologies," she says, lifting her hands off her nose from where the back of my head had impacted with her face.

We pause, staring at one another, and then turn in unison to Queen Mera and King Orin, both of whom are chuckling at us.

"Congratulations!" Tula exclaims, finding her voice first. "That is wonderful!" she darts to Queen Mera, hugging her tightly.

"Indeed," I add, grinning and moving to King Orin with my arms reaching out as if moving to hug him. I realize quickly the inappropriateness of that and hastily move to switch to a handshake. He promptly intercepts my hand, moving forward to hug me, chuckling at my sudden bewilderment. I adapt quickly and return the hug, adding, "An heir to the throne at last!"

I pause, suddenly aware of what I had just blurted out – I am on a roll for inappropriateness tonight, _wonderful _– and pull away quickly from King Orin. I look to Prince Orm, "My apologies, my Prince, I did not intend-"

"It is well Kalla," he says, smiling at me. "No one could be more thrilled at this news than I!"

My worry cracks with a grin as the Prince moves to his brother and Queen Mera grabs my shoulder, pulling me in for an excited hug.

"Thank-you, brother," says King Orin. "Thanks to you all."

I move away from Queen Mera as she moves to King Orin. I turn to Tula, unable to keep the smile off my face. She returns the smile softly and puts her hands behind her back respectfully.

Aquaman's communicator beeps, ::: Superman to Aquaman. League emergency in Tokyo Bay, rendezvous at the Watchtower. :::

He presses his communicator and responds, "Acknowledged." He looks to the rest of us, "It seems I must take my leave." He looks to me, "Swim with me."

I follow immediately.

"Batman has made me aware of your…dilemma," he explains as we approach the zeta-tube.

I grimace.

"I know from experience it can be difficult to live there and love here," he continues, causing me to wonder what experience exactly, surely that is an interesting tale. He types in the destination point for the zeta-tube then grasps my shoulder, "I am confident that you will make the right choice."

I force a smile on my face and salute him in return as he turns and enters the tube.

That makes one of us at least.

I meet Tula outside of the palace and we swim, in awkward silence, up to one of the higher points in Poseidonis. Our silences never used to be awkward.

We speak in unison, "There is something I must-"

We stop abruptly, chuckle awkwardly, and I manage to speak first just as she opens her mouth, "Please, Tula," I inhale, grasping her hand tightly, "I have made the decision to stay in Atlantis with you, _because_ of you."

She pulls away and I release her hand, concern flooding my core as she turns her back and grips her arms tightly, "I am sorry, Kalla."

Hastily, I add, "I understand if it would not – you may not be attracted to-"

She turns around sharply, her eyes wide, "No! That is not…well, yes, that is true, it is more fluid but," Tula trails off awkwardly, looking alarmed. "What I mean is," she sighs and pulls away, hugging herself, "We wanted to tell you sooner but, Garth and I, we are…together." She looks at me, smiling softly at the thought of our mutual friend.

I look down, feeling myself fold inwards.

Right. Right, I had considered this. Well, not this exactly. I had considered the fact that I never knew of her to be attracted to women so I was prepared for that, but…Garth? I could understand _why _she would be…I…suppose…

He is attractive, I suppose, intelligent…I…okay I cannot figure out how to consider him as anything but a friend but…

I was not prepared for this. I was prepared for the other reason but this just adds another layer of…something.

I swallow thickly.

Perhaps I should have let her speak first.

_BOOM-OOM-OOM!_

I turn sharply. Horror seeps into my bones as explosions erupt by the palace, toppling buildings and monuments.

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

I turn sharply as explosions occur all around us, throughout Poseidonis. Shelters are obliterated and debris steam through the water. The tube system is destroyed, blocking movement out of Poseidonis. I can already hear screaming. Involuntarily, dread sinks into my stomach.

_Heroine of Atlantis._

I jolt out of my horror and grab my water-bearers, "We must go."

Tula nods sharply, snapping out of her own horror to follow my lead. I follow the shouts and the sounds of shots fired by the palace. The priority must be the heir and therefore the Queen.

Tula and I almost immediately find the enemy, Black Manta's agents, and attack. Her with her sorcery, and myself with my sorcery and Aqualass training.

Black Manta is clearly the cause of this so that means this likely has a purpose beyond terror. He always has underlying motivations.

Tula and I emerge past the first agents to see the Queen, the Prince, and some soldiers guarding the palace against Black Manta's forces. Tula sends an explosive ball of magic into the ranks of the enemy, sending them scattering with the explosion. A straggling enemy moves to shoot Tula and I grab him with a water-whip, sending him crashing into a nearby rock where he falls unconscious.

His operatives are usually humans so they should be easy enough to take out with a simple punch.

Queen Mera sends her water-constructs attacking Manta's forces. Tula uses all of her sorcery training to her advantage – she was always the best out of the three of us at combat sorcery. I excelled at non-sorcery combat and Garth could rattle off facts like an encyclopaedia.

I do not bother restraining myself. They are Humans in suits that have purposefully attacked Atlantis. They know that their chances of dying, by accident or on purpose, are high. I have no doubt that a number of the humans will drown.

"This attack was precision planned," I say as I note that no additional Atlantean soldiers have shown up, "the initial attacks lured the patrols into ambush."

That is the only possible explanation.

My fist crushes a helmet and my sword obliterates a gun an instant before I kick the operative in the gut, sending him crashing backwards. I twist, sending my whip to wrap around a pillar and send it crashing down atop a group of the enemy.

"Tula!" I hear Garth shout.

I dodge a shot and grab the gun, forcing it to the side to shoot one of the enemy before I send my mace across the face of the shooter. Blood seeps out from his cracked helmet.

Tula shouts, "Garth, look out! EAAAHHH!"

"NO!"

I turn sharply and promptly shriek at the sight of Tula sinking unresponsively, "TULA!"

I land next to Garth as he holds Tula. She's still breathing, I note immediately. Thank Poseidon. She's still breathing. I think I can breathe again then.

I look up, only to find shots from the enemy streaking towards us. Queen Mera moves in front of us, her water-constructs turning into shining purple tentacles that block the shots. Her channels glow across her arms, face and hips, sending tentacles grasping out at the enemy as behind us the octopus construct's head emerges.

Within seconds we are completely surrounded, protected, by Queen Mera's mystical construct of an immense octopus.

I need to focus. I must do my job. Protect Atlantis. Protect the heir. Protect the Queen. She does not appear to need protection but…it is my job. My duty.

"Surface communications are down!" exclaims Orm to me, his hand brushing across my shoulder in what I assume is silent support. "We cannot reach King Orin. Summon more troops to the palace."

"The palace was not the only target," says Garth, looking up at us as he moves into his 'report' voice. "I witnessed explosions in Sectors 1, 2, 3 and 5."

I frown, "Nothing in Sector 4?"

I ascend so that I can spot the tip of the Science Centre, "Explosions all over the city except where the Science Centre is located." I glance at the Prince, "Where your giant sea-star is secured."

"Then it is all a diversion," he says, rising next to me. "But with the King away, I must protect the Queen, and the heir."

"I need no protection," Queen Mera says, rightfully so. She is currently defending the palace completely by herself after all, and succeeding quite spectacularly. "Go!"

"No Mera," says Prince Orm. "If you suffered any injury my brother would never forgive me."

He also has a point. Queen Mera can certainly protect herself, however, the aggressive and antagonistic politics alone that would result if the Queen suffered any injury when the Prince was not there trying to defend her would be staggering. Queen Mera would blame no one except the person who harmed her for her injury, and she would fight for the removal of all charges against the Prince for not being there to at least try to protect her and the heir, but it would not do much. The laws are clear. The Prince would be tried, found guilty, and Atlantis would waver for a moment if not simply domestically then internationally. It would be a mess. The Prince must remain here.

"The Prince is right my Queen," I say. "This battle is mine."

At least I will be able to punch something instead of crying about how I am now the proverbial third wheel.

"And mine," says Garth, causing me to pause.

I look down at him, still cradling Tula, and snap, "Your place is with Tula."

I turn before I can see his responding expression. I ascend, blocking the attacks by Manta's troops and taking out more with one hit each. I waste no energy in multiple hits to single targets.

I reach the Science Centre quickly and input my code to open the entrance. Above the Science Centre is the Manta-Sub, boring a hole in the top skylights that will undoubtedly be where they put a cable of some sort down to grab the frozen creature, which is, according to Prince Orm, immense.

A sixth sense, warrior sense or something, prompts me to turn around gripping one of my water-bearers. I relax upon seeing it is only Garth and I snap, "You should be with Tula."

"The Queen watches over Tula," he retorts, impressively calm considering I am behaving rather rudely with him, "and sent me after you."

I know I am behaving immaturely, but I do not care. I am frustrated. I frown then turn without a word and enter the Science Centre.

When we are nearly to the creature I fall back silently, letting Garth move ahead. I had spotted individuals checking the perimeter. I flank them just as they raise their weapons to shoot Garth.

_CLANG! CLANG!_

They fall unconscious, if not dead, and I look up to see Garth staring at me in astonishment.

I spit, "I too have my studies."

He swims over to me as I begin to fiddle with the suit of one of the operatives, "What are we going to do?"

"Put these on, report back to Manta, take out Manta, save the creature," I explain, removing the man's helmet.

He looks at the two human males, looks at himself, and then looks at me as I tug the arm piece off the human. I put the arm piece on and look at him, "What is it?"

"Are you going to be able to wear a suit?" he asks, gesturing vaguely to my body. "They do not seem particularly…flexible and you are not, well, _built _as they are."

He has a point but I do not wish to admit that. At least he knows I can be immature and has seen me be spectacularly immature before. I would never, of course, behave as I am behaving now in front of the Team. Well, I would try not to at least.

I move to put on the second arm piece. I stop. The metal that was supposed to be at the armpit in the arm piece was digging into the top of my bicep instead. My elbow was not at the elbow joint of the suit and I am incapable of bending my forearm in half, which creates a problem. I stare at the extremely ill-fitting arm piece. I am more muscular and taller than the average teenage girl but that does not help much, it seems, when it comes to fitting into the suit of an adult male. I will be unable to move properly in this suit. Parts of it will be too large – like the shoulders – and parts of it will be too small – like the chest piece, I suspect, or perhaps the hip area seeing as it seems to not be built for butts.

I sigh, "New plan."

I tug off the arm piece and hand it to Garth as I explain, "You will wear a suit, report back to Manta, tell him your partner got attacked by Aqualass and you barely got away from her-"

"Will that not just put Manta more on edge?" Garth cuts in.

He has a point. Again. Poseidon, I need to push the Garth and Tula thing out of my mind and just _focus_. This is getting pathetic.

Okay, how will we infiltrate Manta's current stronghold in the creature's room, disconnect the cable, and take down Manta? We have two suits, but one person to wear them. I will be the one who cannot wear a suit so…where is my position in all of this?

Wait. Yes, this could be fun.

"I have a better plan," I say, smirking as I tug off my shirt.

His eyes widen, "Kalla, what are-"

"Garth, stay focused and put on the suit," I say, grabbing one of the enemy's guns and promptly holding my shirt out to shoot it.

"Why did you just shoot your shirt?" he asks, tugging on the leg and foot pieces.

"Because you just beat Aqualass," I explain, tugging my shirt back on then ripping a hole in the hem of my pants. "Good job Garth."

"Oh," he nods in vague understanding as I move to help him put on the suit quicker.

Garth in the suit that disguises him as one of Manta's followers swims into the creature's place with me hanging from his arms playing dead. Garth carries my water-bearers with him and my pack remained behind because no self-respecting follower of Manta's would dare to bring me before him armed, dead or alive. At least, we think so.

"What-" I hear Manta say. He rediscovers his voice and I sense him dart toward us, "What is this?"

I feel Manta grab me from Garth's arms and I consciously keep my breathing as minimal as possible.

"Haven't I told you fools to leave Aqualass to me?!" he shouts, and his grip on me tightens, pressing me tighter against his chest. "You were specifically ordered not to kill her! To leave her to me!"

I sense rather than see Garth pull back. We were not certain how Manta would react, but nevertheless expected celebration, not this. He sounds angry, not celebratory.

"You-" his voice shakes slightly and I can feel him staring at me. "Keep working!" he barks, and I feel us ascend.

We had expected this, considering my past altercations with Black Manta. As planned, Garth will distract the followers at the bottom as I send Manta to the side and disconnect the cable, that is, if Garth is unable to do it from where he is.

A moment passes, and then I hear someone shout, "Hey! What are you-ARGH!"

My cue.

I snap up, scissoring my legs to clamp my thighs around Manta's neck and twist, sending him crashing to the top of the frozen creature.

I grab Manta before he has a chance to recover and fling him against the roof. Garth chucks my water-bearers to me and I grab them and snap up a shield before Manta's shots impact with me.

"Cable?" I ask.

"Nearly!" Garth shouts.

Manta rises, angrier than before, "You really have no ambition beyond following Aquaman! Aren't schools of others willing to die for their king?!" He turns to Garth, "This fool for example!"

I snap out a whip and pull Garth out of the way of Manta's eyebeams. I shout, "Head in the game, Garth!"

I block Manta's attack, fighting to get past him to sever the main cable. I flip over him and he kicks me in the back, sending me crashing face-first right into the main cable as the creature begins to rise courtesy of the Manta-Sub. I grab the cable, twist around it to avoid Manta's shot, which would have gone far anyway, and send my blade slicing through the large pulley system surrounded by a protective metal shell. The creature falls, pieces of ice breaking off, as the cable is severed.

Manta stares me then turns to the creature. He shouts, "IF I CAN'T HAVE IT, NO ONE CAN!"

He shoots it and my instincts prompt me to form a shield with both my water-bearers. Agonizing heat surrounds me as the water boils and I find myself temporarily blinded by the light and dizzying heat. Something hard, metal, wraps around my arm and my back crashes into glass and metal. My mouth opens in a silent shout. Distantly, I hear a man shouting.

My head spins and for a moment I feel like I'm suffocating. The moment vanishes quickly, replaced by pain as I float backwards, staring up at the surface as the Manta-Sub speeds away, my brain not cooperating and telling the rest of my body to ignore the pain and take down the sub.

Ow.

That hurt.

"KALLA! KALLA!"

"I-I am well," I say as Garth suddenly appears, looking completely terrified. I do not blame him. First Poseidonis, then Tula, now me. His day has been terrible.

"Oh Poseidon, your legs," he breathes, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

I look sharply down at my legs, which are where most of the pain is coming from. They're dotted with little minor burn marks courtesy of the boiling water, mostly along the lower half of my upper thighs and down to my lower legs and feet. That makes sense considering I created a shield with my water-bearers, which I hold in my hands, and which, therefore, would not completely cover my legs. The way he reacted I had expected a missing leg or something. This is nothing.

"I will be fine," I say, although I allow myself to lean on him. "They are minor burns. The creature…"

"Destroyed."

"Vulko and the Prince will not be happy about that."

He snorts, "I believe they will be happier that you are alive."

"That is a nice thought," I admit as he wraps an arm around my waist and starts helping me down from above the Science Centre. He hesitates after we grab my water-bearers and pack and we begin to make our way – slowly – to the palace where I can receive some medical attention. "I am sorry…about Tula and I, I mean. We should have told you when it happened, but we…we stared at our email and could not bring ourselves to inform you over it."

He has to be joking.

He looks alarmed, "Kalla? Are you – I am sorry. We-"

"No, it is not that," I shake my head. "It is simply that I did much the same thing when I was trying to figure out how to speak to Tula. I hate opening up email conversations."

"We are terrible at this," he sighs. "This staying-in-touch thing."

"We are. How did you even start your relationship?"

"We…sort of…fell into it," he admits. "It was…unconventional."

"From what I have heard, that is common on the surface, falling into it," I remark.

"Good to know it is common somewhere. Here, many have not approved."

I frown at the thought of people giving my friends a hard time. Pushing away my hurt about Tula I say fiercely, "People are fools."

"Do you say that on the surface too?"

"I am a professional, Garth."

"So that's a yes."

I shoot him a _look_.

"You look like the Queen when you do that."

I roll my eyes, "Whatever you say, Garth."

* * *

**Healing Wing, National Palace of Atlantis, Poseidonis, Atlantis : September 1, 2010 – 13:16 UTC-03**

"You appear to be doing better."

I look up from my conversation with my Surface-World Politics instructor, Nikia. She quickly salutes the Prince and begs her leave, making me promise to contact her later.

"My Prince," I say, saluting him quickly in greeting. I glance down at my legs, still bare at the healer's orders for the next few hours. I should be able to wear my usual Aqualass uniform soon. Most of the burns were healed pretty quickly and well, ensuring that the scars I gain from the incident are few and small. The largest is as long as my pointer finger and about as wide.

I tilt my head, "Yes, I experience very little irritation from the burns now."

"That is good," Prince Orm says. "I thought you would like to know, we managed to recover a piece of the creature."

"That is excellent news! I am assuming it will help in the study of the creature?"

"Perhaps, but with the Science Centre in ruins our ability to study it has been greatly hindered."

"Oh. Of course. My apologies."

"I plan on asking the surface-world if they would be up to guarding it. A few Atlantean scientists would be brought up with it, of course, to help guide the study."

"I am sure the surface-world would like to try."

"Indeed."

"Do you wish for me to transport it to the surface-world?"

"That will not be necessary. If the surface-world does agree to it, my brother will be transporting it alongside the scientists." He adds at my expression, which must show my confusion over him telling me that, "I thought you would like to know the outcome of your attack on Black Manta."

"I do apologize for the destruction of the Science Centre. I had no idea he would destroy the creature, although he was quite angry," I say.

The Prince chuckles, "I would be angry as well if my plan was foiled by my enemies."

"Oh, no, that was not what I meant, my Prince. Certainly, he was frustrated with that but he seemed more angry about me apparently being dead."

He raises an eyebrow. After a moment, he comments, "I suppose he wished to kill you himself."

"He _did_ say that he had ordered his followers not to kill me and instead leave me to him."

"Then that is the explanation."

"I suppose so."

"I heard of your dilemma."

I barely restrain a groan. Does _everyone_ in Atlantis know of it?

"Have you made a decision?" Prince Orm inquires.

I stare at my legs then glance to the bedside table where Tula and Garth's get-well-soon gift was placed, a collection of anklets – they know me far too well. Alongside the anklets is a gift from La'gaan and Topo, an enchanted mosaic depicting me battling Black Manta with accompanying commentary from La'gaan in his usual bombastic style. Lori and Blubber brought me a collection of the newest recordings of the Atlantean musician Ninianne, claiming that since I had been on the surface-world I had missed out on all of Ninianne's best concerts. King Sha'ark renewed my visitation rights to his city-state, claiming that despite my closeness to "chum" I would be treated as an honoured guest. Ronal brought nothing, unsurprisingly, but did visit and say that he was irritated that he was now the only "cursed" one in Poseidonis since I had left for the surface-world. I took that as him saying that he missed me and wished me well.

My Atlantean friends have clearly missed me but I do not believe they need me as the Team does. The only possible choice for leader is Robin and he…he is barely older than Topo and La'gaan, I cannot put that sort of pressure on him.

I take in a deep breath and nod, "Yes, I have made a decision. Call me Aqualass."

The Prince smirks.

* * *

**Poseidonis, Atlantis : September 3, 2010 – 21:08 UTC-03**

"Kalla, I – we – that is-"

I stop Tula with a hand on her shoulder, followed by one on Garth's, "I wish you both nothing but the best."

Even though I really would like to be petty, only in an attempt to make myself feel better, but I will not. I can be mature now. I have had a few days to process this and they seemed to be aware of my turmoil while I was recovering, having only visited twice while I was in the healing wing. Lori visited most often, actually.

I hug Tula followed by Garth, then go to the tube. I pause as a thought occurs to me and I turn to Garth, "Have you ever wondered what would have happened if I had stayed behind and you had become Aqua…lad?"

He smiles, "Never."

I grin, "No, neither have I."

I swim into the tube.

/ Recognized, Aqualass B02. /

I walk into the Cave to find Batman typing on the holographic computer. Batman questions, as if I had just left yesterday, "Made your decision?"

"I am here," I say. "One hundred percent."

"Just in time for your next mission," he says as the rest of the Team walk in. "The Watchtower detected an immense power surge in the Bialyian desert-"

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, Black Manta has _rules_ when it comes to Aqualass. Of course he does. He doesn't leave stuff to chance. Next up, Bialya. Although I really wanted it to be Sha'lain'a but because everything with Kaldur happens back-to-back-to-back I can't shove a Sha'lain'a chapter in here dammit. So, Bialya.

Also, line breaks why are you refusing to work consistently? Curse you!

**R&R**


	23. Kalladura'ham 18

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 109: Bereft and Young Justice #14: Under the Surface._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, severe dehydration, hallucination, mention of internalized racism, institutionalized discrimination, mention of other negative 'isms'**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Keep your fears to yourself but share your courage with others."_

Robert Louis Stevenson

* * *

**18**

**Bialya : September 4, 2010 – 06:16 EEST**

It's hot. Too hot.

I scrunch my eyes shut tighter and my hands curl against the sand.

Wait.

My eyes shoot open and I lurch to my feet.

I stumble and fall backwards, landing on my butt against the sand.

I look up, catch sight of the sun, and promptly look away and around me. I am on the surface. In a desert. A hot desert. My hands twitch and I feel my heart pound against my ribcage as the hot air sneaks into my lungs, continuing its slow work in suffocating me.

I scramble to my feet, swaying, my vision blurry, and hurriedly pull out my Atlantean/Surface PDA to try and figure out where I am and why I am here, in the middle of the desert, when I have gills and am already dehydrated if my balance is anything to go by.

My fingers fumble with the PDA and my eyes widen at the time displayed on it. It was September? But, it was March! Last thing I remember, I was training with Tula. In March!

Tula!

I whirl around and promptly trip and fall on my face. I shoot up to my hands and knees, looking around frantically.

My heart bruises itself against my ribcage for a few moments before I manage to calm myself and remind myself that the likelihood of Tula being here with me is rather low. Even if I was transported here…from Atlantis…when fully aware and training...and then left in the middle of the desert with nothing but what I carried…

That was a little farfetched, surely. Something…something else must have happened.

I swallow, and promptly grimace as swallowing with a dry mouth only gets me a lump in my throat.

I glance back at my PDA and stare at where its GPS says I am.

Bialya.

Fuck.

A country that was a desert, and that Atlantis did not have particularly good relations with. I was never cleared to cross the Bialyian border. What the hell am I doing in Bialya in September?!

Okay. Okay. Stay calm, Kalla. You're dehydrated. You're not thinking clearly. Just…stop.

Shade. I need shade.

I hurry over to a rock and crouch in the shade with my head between my knees as I try to stave off a panic attack.

I am going to die. I am going to die from dehydration. I am going to die from heatstroke. I am going to die in the middle of Bialya.

My hands clamp over the back of my head and I tighten myself into a ball, forcing myself to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe.

After a few minutes of simply breathing and staring at the sand beneath my feet I feel well enough to sit properly. I lean against the rock in the shade and press my fingers to my com-link.

I stop.

No, I cannot do that. I was taught this. Bialya monitors all communications occurring within its borders. I try to contact the League and I will be found. I try to contact Atlantis and I will be found. If I am found I will have to fight and I am in no condition to fight anyone.

I have no help. I have to get out of this by myself.

I swallow around a lump in my throat.

Okay, I can do this. I can survive the desert and get to Qurac. They will help me. Qurac and Atlantis have good relations. They will help. They have to.

I rise and the water in my pack sloshes louder than normal. My lips feel ready to shrivel up.

That is the water I use to fight with. It is not fit for drinking. I just…have to remember that.

I start walking.

At the next piece of shade I pause and give in. I make a small stream of water from my pack drop into my mouth. I have to force myself to not gag on it. It's water. I need it. It does not matter how terrible it tastes.

Despite the terrible taste I still have to force myself not to drink more. I need it to last. If it does not…I do not wish to consider that.

I continue walking.

As the next hour passes I realize that being alone with my thoughts is a terrible idea. My imagination is conjuring up scenarios where Bialya's soldiers discover my body in the desert and their Queen holds my body up like a prize. Atlantis would respond, especially if she did not return my body to them. Matim and Patera…they would crack. Matim would break. Patera would…he may return to his olds ways with Matim. Annex could declare war.

The Justice League would be caught in the middle, or, they would fight on behalf of Atlantis. But they were not soldiers so...they could not anyway.

Tula…Tula and Garth, they would be horrified. I cannot…I do not…

Topo would withdraw more into himself. La'gaan would grow even more rash, promising vengeance, likely, on behalf of me due to his idolization of me…of Aqualass.

_Heroine of Atlantis._

I blink rapidly, running from that foolish thought.

Or if Bialya does not discover my body first it would be a Justice League team, sent to investigate my disappearance. Batman, likely, would be included, along with Martian Manhunter. Annex would be in Atlantis, waiting with Anassa and my parents for word. It would be too dangerous for him or other Atlanteans to seek me out in Bialya.

They would find me, shrivelled up, like a raisin. Burned. Dried. Dead. Maybe it would only be my bones, because the scavengers of the desert picked at me. Some of them learned they liked fish.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge that train of thought.

I glance at the sky. It is noon, according to the sun.

Were I not frightened that I would not stand back up again I would seek out some shade and sit there for a half-hour to try and re-energize myself, at least psychologically, through some meditation. But…if I sit down I am frightened I will be unable to summon he willpower to stand up again and resume walking.

I keep walking.

The sand crunches beneath my feet. Searing. My feet grow numb soon as the afternoon sun moves slowly through the sky. I wonder absently how many scars I will have on my feet thanks to the burning sand.

Battle scars, La'gaan would call them. The thought quirks a small smile from my face, which quickly vanishes as I try to breathe properly again.

The heat is robbing me of my breath. I feel as though I am slowly suffocating.

I wonder if this is how humans feel when they are drowning.

My entire body feels heavy by what I estimate to be about 3 o'clock.

My vision is growing hazy and my steps are wobbly, uncoordinated upon shaking legs. But I think…is that water?

No, that is foolish. It is merely a mirage, surely. Those are common in the desert, I believe, when one is not at their peak. It is only logical that I see one. That I see the glistening water in the desert, tempting like the water and the fruit were to Tantalus.

My body refuses to listen to my brain, refuses to listen to the lessons of Tantalus, and instead stumbles toward the shimmering area between the two rocks spreading slivers of shade. My knees hit the sand and, to my astonishment, my hands seem to sink into the shimmering substance. I cannot tell if it is truly wet or if it is just a trick of the mind. My hands act of their own accord though, scooping up the shimmering substance and dumping it in my mouth.

It is dry. And crunchy.

I reel forward, my hands hitting sand, spitting and coughing and hacking up the sand I had seen shimmering and my body believed was water.

My arms and legs tremble as I stare at the sand, barely even wet from my saliva, a testament to how dry my mouth is, and I try to spit out some more of the sand. It doesn't work well. Only a few grains of sand hit the ground.

I nearly burst into tears. Instead, I swallow dryly. Trembling, I lean back against one of the rocks. With a shaking hand grasping a water-bearer I manipulate some of the water in my pack and shove it into my mouth.

The horrible taste returns, metallic, like blood, mingling with the taste and texture of the sand. I reel forward, supporting myself on the rock opposite me as I hang over it and vomit.

The water tainted with sand and…combat spills with whatever remained in my empty stomach down the rock and onto the sand below. I lean on the rock, manipulate more water into my mouth, and vomit again, succeeding partially in getting most of the sand out of my mouth along with the terrible water.

I need to drink it. I have to. I am going to die if I do not drink it.

A corner of my mind retorts caustically, _You are going to die regardless. It does not matter if you drink it or not. You. Are. Dead. You have been dead for hours._

I force the water into my mouth and manage to swallow it. As I move myself off the rock I feel it come back up. I hit the rock again, hacking and coughing and heaving out the filthy water.

It tastes like a sewer. My gills twitch at that thought.

I holster my water-bearer and sit back onto the sand with a _thump. _I press my head between my knees in an attempt to make the world stop spinning. It is too hot. I need cold. I need water. I need…I need my matim. I need Patera. I need Annex.

I am trembling from…I do not know. Dehydration, the heat, fear, _something._

I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die.

No. No I have to stand. I have to keep walking. I have to trick myself into thinking that I am sitting in a tundra of ice and snow. It is cold. It was recently raining. I have to believe that.

I must get to Qurac. Get to Atlantis. I have a job to do. A duty. I must do it.

The world spins mockingly.

It takes another fifteen, ten, something minutes before I try to stand with the world still spinning.

I get to my feet and a sense of success fills my body.

My knees go out beneath me and I hit the ground, hard. Some of the sand gets in my gills and that, of all things, _that_ does it for me. I burst into strangled, dry tears and barely manage to roll over, staring up at the sun as my chest heaves and dry sobs strangle themselves out of my throat against my obstinate refusal to admit that all I want is my matim.

I am fine. I will be fine. I will…I have to be fine. I must.

I move my mouth, forming the words, pleading with the sun or the Gods, _someone_, to help me. I cannot help myself anymore. I cannot even move. My limbs are not even trembling anymore, or perhaps they are and I am simply unaware of it. I do not know.

I cannot move. I can blink, I can _blink_, but I cannot move.

I need help, but no one is answering. No one is here.

Why is no one here?

Why am I alone?

Why am I dying alone?

The sun sears my flesh. I cannot move. I can barely breathe. I wonder if this is what drowning feels like.

I blink, again, but I cannot find the strength to open my eyes.

I recall home.

_"Shhh, Rini, it's okay. Matim's okay."_

_She has blood on her shirt though. Her hands were recently cleaned but there's blood on her shirt and I - Child Me doesn't understand. Why would there be blood on her shirt?_

_"You're supposed to be in bed," Matim scolds lightly, crouching and scooping Child Me up. "Were you disobeying Aunt Chevy?"_

_"No," Child Me lies._

_Matim doesn't fall for the lie and looks to Aunt Chevy, "She's a little liar, isn't she?"_

_"Yep," Aunt Chevy confirms. "Refused to go to bed until she saw you. Mommy's little girl."_

_The surface bed is soft, soft and warm, but not uncomfortably so. Child Me stays awake though, listening to the conversation occurring between Matim and Aunt Chevy in the other room._

_"What happened?" Aunt Chevy asks._

_"He wants to see her, more than just the photos," Matim replies. "I said no."_

_"He hasn't approached you in-person since she was born, what's changed?"_

_"It wasn't him. One of his followers. He asked, on behalf of that asshole, about her Atlantean features though. I broke his nose and refused to tell him anything."_

_"Tell Daphne about it. She'll hunt him down with the scent of that blood on your shirt."_

_"I didn't even want to get you involved. I can handle this, Chevy."_

_"There's a reason we work in packs you know."_

_"I'm not a skinshifter."_

_"You're not alone anymore Sha'lain'a."_

_"It's what I'm used to."_

_"Then get un-used to it. You're my sis-"_

_There is quiet. Child Me clues in quickly and promptly rolls over, back to the door, and tugs the sheets up higher on her shoulders then shuts her eyes and tries to feign sleeping._

_"Did she..."_

_"She's faking," Matim says. "She heard. Didn't you Kalla?"_

_Child Me huffs and rolls over, "M'sorry."_

_"It's okay," Matim sighs, crouching next to the bed. "Just forget what you heard, okay?"_

_"Was it about the bad man? The one you said we have to keep moving to...to stay safe from?"_

_"Shhh, it's okay Kalla. Just forget it all and don't worry about it. Let Matim worry about it." ~_

_~ Tula's laugh is high and loud, vibrant._

_I don't remember what I said that made her laugh but I grin anyway, chuckling. _

_Her laughter slows to chuckles and she wraps her arms around my shoulders then pecks her lips to mine lightly. She pulls away with her hand wrapped around mine and her smiles making her freckles pop from her cheeks._

_"I can stay here, in Atlantis. I don't have to go to the surface-world anymore," I say, nuzzling my face against her neck. "We can be together, here."_

_"Kalla," she breathes, her hands against my back and running down, "that's wonderfu-"_

_::: Hey everybody! I've got Superboy! He's back to normal and we're on our way! :::_

Holy fuck.

I shoot up and immediately a blonde girl in a green mask pushes me back down as I protest, "Who are you? How are you inside my head?"

Only Matim-

_::: Hello Megan! ::: _the girl exclaims. _::: Aqualass' memories! I knew I forgot something! :::_

My memories? How do you…what...but Tula.

_::: Aw man! ::: _a voice oddly like Kid Flash's huffs. _::: I forgot a souvenir from the mission! :::_

Mission?

_::: Don't worry, we've got the souvenir thing covered. :::_

"Don't worry," says the blonde girl with her hands – they're too warm – on my shoulders. "We're on a Team."

What?

"She's right," says Robin, coming to stand next to the cot I am lying on with an IV drip of, presumably, water, attached to my arm.

"Robin?" I look past him to see Kid Flash. "Kid Flash?" I look up and around me, not recognizing the aircraft we are inside, "What is this place?"

"Bio-Ship," Robin answers. "You probably shouldn't move too much. You're still way too hot for an Atlantean."

I nod mutely and stare at the ceiling, my mind racing but my body calming with the presence of two people I do know.

"You remember anything?" asks Kid Flash, zipping up beside me. "I mean, like, in Bialya. Not of the mission, 'cause you definitely don't remember that. None of us did."

He takes a large bite out of his granola bar. I blink then stare at the ceiling of the…Bio-Ship. Last thing I remember was Tula but that was not...when I was conscious I remember thinking I was dead. Before that…I remember heat, I remember vomiting, and I remember my flesh burning. I remember my pessimism claiming that I was dead. I remember being alone. I remember drowning.

I lie, "No, I remember nothing."

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : September 5, 2010 – 18:16 EDT**

I do not remember falling asleep, but I wake up anyway.

I am underwater. It is salt water but it is not the ocean. I am in a large tub and attached to various medical instruments that seen to be monitoring my vitals. I am not wearing my uniform, but I am in Atlantean clothing, a pair of shorts and a midriff-baring tank. I stare at my legs, with small scars crisscrossing them that I do not remember getting.

I perform a quick inventory of myself, checking for any injuries.

Nothing, so I sit up and poke my head, shoulders, and chest out of the water. I look around, recognizing some of the League's Atlantean-specific medical equipment. It is an unfamiliar medical area though. As unfamiliar as the scars on my legs.

Panic is setting in. Irrational panic, surely, seeing as I do seem to be in a League area being treated for…something and League areas are safe. The scars though…they remind me of intense heat. My mouth is dry. I remember Bialya. The…Bio-Ship…the girl in green, Kid Flash and Robin.

What-

"You're up."

My head snaps to the door where a boy who looks like a younger version of Superman is standing. He is even wearing the S-shield on his chest, although it is against a black background and is on a black t-shirt instead of a blue uniform. I stare.

Batman swoops in and I can feel the panic ebbing away at the sight of the familiar hero. He explains as he moves to the equipment monitoring me, "A telepath blocked six months worth of memories off from your mind. Martian Manhunter will restore them for you soon. How do you feel?"

"Well," I answer, tensing my hands against the bottom of the tub. Better than I did in Bialya at least.

Batman stares at me. His stare is…intimidating but I have faced the stare of Annex and his is used to reign in not only superheroes but entire armies as well.

I force my shoulders to relax.

He questions, "What do you remember from the mission?"

"Heat," I answer immediately.

I do not wish to remember it, but I remember it.

I remember the heat, the sun, the sand, and vomiting up the water I tried to drink from my pack.

I notice that the t-shirted Super…boy was gone, presumably thanks to Batman. I look up at Batman and ask, "How long was I there?"

"Over 24 hours," he answers.

A lump forms in my throat. Being in the middle of a desert without water or cold for over 24 hours would have killed most Atlanteans. I did not realize I was there for that long.

"We think it was your human half that saved you," he explains. "We haven't been able to get in touch with Aquaman. He's on a mission, that's why you aren't in Atlantis right now."

I remember Bialya. I remember the heat, the sun. I remember trying to drink my combat water and vomiting because of it.

The heat.

I remember the heat.

The water around me ripples.

"Aqualass," Batman says and my eyes flick to him instinctively. "You're with the League."

I know that is meant to be reassuring but it helps little. The panic is returning. My chest rises and falls quickly, too quickly, and the room is suffocating. It is too hot. Far too hot.

"Go under," Batman orders, reaching out and grabbing my shoulder. "Go underwater."

I sink beneath the water, shut my eyes, and just focus on the sensation of the water around me, of the water against my gills and skin, of the cool temperature, of Batman's hand on my shoulder.

I'm fine. I just have to remember that. I did not die. I did not die. I did not die. That corner of my mind was wrong.

I open my eyes and slowly rise out of the water. Batman watches me carefully.

"Apologies," I say.

"Do you think you can handle J'onn restoring your memories?" he asks.

I nod, "Yes, Batman."

It takes three minutes for the Martian Manhunter to arrive. Batman spends that time keeping my Team – apparently I have a Team – out of the room. I appreciate it, though I cannot seem to say that out loud. I do not remember the Team and I do not wish to hurt them because of that lack of memory.

"This will be jarring," says the Martian Manhunter as he takes a seat next to my tub.

"I expect so," I say, watching him.

"Very well. I will begin."

His eyes glow and I see nothing.

Then, everything.

The spill, oh Poseidon _the spill_. Roy. Killer Frost. Robin and Kid Flash. Cadmus and the fire. Superboy. Pansy. Matim and Patera. Miss Martian. The Team. Selena. Red Tornado and Mister Twister. Bane. Batman. Black Canary. Superman. Amazo. The beach. Artemis. Roy. Cheshire, Black Spider, Hook. Tula. Captain Atom. General Eiling. The photograph. Doctor Fate. Sorcerer Supreme. Wally. Helmet of Fate. Clayface. _Stupid_. Atlantis. Black Manta. Tula. Garth. Topo. _Tula! _Heir. The creature. _Pain_. Heat. Scars. Bialya. Tracking. _Heat._ I am going to die. Why am I alone?

My vision refocuses and I find myself staring at J'onn. He looks concerned.

I blink, swallow, and force myself to rearrange my expression into one more stalwart, "Thank-you."

He nods, rises, rests his hand on Batman's shoulder and I am not so far gone that I cannot see them have a silent conversation. J'onn leaves. Batman turns back to me and studies me carefully. I restrain myself from lunging forward and clinging to him. I had forgotten and now…I…the spill is still hurting everyone, I just returned from Atlantis where my best friends got together while I was gone, Tula…Tula…, I nearly died and now I…I have to lead the Team now. I do not know if I can do that right now.

"You're safe here, Kalla," Batman's voice breaks into my thoughts and I look up sharply, realizing abruptly that the lump in my throat is growing.

I feel my chin beginning to tremble. I look down hastily. How pathetic is this? I am safe, I know that, and I just spent the last mission sobbing because I thought I would die, and now that I am safe I wish to start crying again? How…

"How-" my voice cracks. I stop and start again, "How do you do it?"

Batman pauses in his movements disconnecting me from the machines. He looks at me. Silent. I always preferred silence.

"How do you support yourself, the Team, and the people close to you?" I ask, unable to look at Batman, unable to see his face as I admit that I feel overwhelmed. "How do you lead?"

There's a beat, then Batman sits next to the tub, leans toward me, and answers, "I have experience. You're still learning. I expect you to make mistakes, to be overwhelmed. You're not going to be perfect."

I feel like a child again as I pull my knees up to my chest and shake my head against my knees, "Then why – why am I leader? Surely there is someone else you could have made leader."

"I didn't make you leader," he points out. "The Team chose you to lead them. The Team has faith in your abilities. They know that you can lead and it's your job to do that."

"You could have overruled that decision," I look up, my vision blurring as I stare at him, "but you did not."

"You're a leader, Kalla," he states. "Whether you like it or not you've been a leader, an example, since you chose to become Aqualass, since you became the first female protege. You're a leader. Orin knew that when he asked you to be his protégé. I knew that when I met you. Green Arrow knew that the first time you interacted with Red Arrow. You might be trained to follow orders, but you're a leader. You need to accept that."

I feel pathetic as I wipe at my face and brush away my tears. Batman's face remains the same though. He is looking at me the same way he did before I broke down in front of him. Nothing has changed.

"And if – when – I do accept that?" I ask.

"You'll make mistakes, but you'll learn from them as you do now."

"What if I cannot do it?" I ask, my voice small.

"You're the only person holding you back," he answers, constant.

I press my face to my knees, trembling. I can sense Batman sitting there, waiting for…something. I do not know what.

"I…" I tighten my arms around my legs, "I almost died. I thought…I thought I was dead." I swallow thickly and continue, my voice shaking as I discover that I have not run out of tears yet, "I could not…I did not wish to be alone when I died but I was and-" I stop and chance looking up at him.

This is pathetic. I cannot believe I am crying in front of Batman of all people.

"It's not a crime to be scared," Batman points out. "You were dying. Of course you were scared. The only reason you're up right now is because the Team got you on an IV the instant they could and managed to contact the Cave to tell us of your condition so we could prep for it."

"You were in the Cave?" I ask, frowning and swallowing. "Would you not-"

"The mission wasn't supposed to take that long and you were given instructions on when to contact us whether or not you got any information," Batman explains, highlighting instructions I vaguely recall now. "We knew, when you didn't contact us, that something was wrong. We prepped for worst-case and the Martian Manhunter met with the Bio-Ship on his way to Bialya and Qurac to investigate. That was just after the Team contacted the Cave. He mentioned you might recall some strange dreams, most of ice and Atlantis."

I nod, "Okay."

"He was trying to get your mind to convince your body that you were either someplace cold or in Atlantis. You were in a fragile state on the Bio-Ship, even with the IV."

"The temperature," I say.

He nods, "You should be fine to get out of the tub anytime now though. You're free to go to Atlantis."

I nod. His hand slides off my shoulder. My hand snaps out, wrapping around his wrist. He stills.

"Apologies," I say quickly, though I cannot bring myself to release his wrist. "I…" I hesitate, trying to convince myself that it's fine if I'm alone for a moment. He will not be leaving for long, and even if he is the Team will be by soon.

"Kalla," he prods.

"I was alone. Alone and dying," I explain, looking past his shoulder rather than at his face.

"You're safe here," he says, using his free hand to grasp my other shoulder. Instinctively, I lean forward as I loosen my hold on his wrist and his newly freed hand twists, grasping my forearm. He assures me, "You'll be fine. I promise."

Fuck, I want to cry again. I hate this. I hate crying.

I nod mutely.

He releases my shoulder and forearm then rises from his seat next to the tub, commenting, "Miss Martian and Superboy will be starting school in a couple of days."

"Oh," I say, oh so intelligently. "Does Superboy not need a civilian ID for that?"

Batman just stares at me as he finishes disconnecting me.

I suppose he would have that under control.

"Understood," I nod.

"The Team will be coming in the moment I leave."

I nod and dunk my head into the tub to remove the evidence of my tears. I raise my head and flash a half-smile at Batman. He stares at me. I turn my half-smile into a full albeit tired one.

He leaves, apparently satisfied with my ability to bullshit.

I hear a gathering beyond the door and sit myself up straighter to prepare myself for the onslaught. I hear Batman's voice followed by Superboy's, then Artemis', although I cannot make out what they are saying, then the door opens again and the Team darts in.

Surprisingly, they are actually rather calm about the whole thing. Barring M'gann that is, who flies towards me wringing her hands together and looking about five different levels of concerned.

"I am well," I assure her before she gets a chance to open her mouth.

I can feel Superboy looking at me suspiciously. His brows are furrowed in what seem to be confusion, or concern, I can barely tell.

"How are you?" I ask. "I heard it was six months, that would have left…nothing for you."

He grimaces at the reminder, "Animal impulses. That was it."

I nod, "How were the rest of you?"

"Confused," Robin answers. "M'gann figured out what had happened though and managed to gather all of us to restore most of our memories."

"None of them initially involved you, unfortunately," adds Artemis, looking apologetic as she glances between M'gann and I. "We would have reached you sooner otherwise."

"I am so sorry!" M'gann exclaims, wrapping her arms around me tightly. "I thought I had restored all our memories but I didn't remember everything, I thought I did but it was just from the day before and you were in Atlantis then so…when I didn't remember I couldn't restore everyone else's too and I kept on hearing Superboy and he was screaming, he was in pain, so I-"

"M'gann, it is well," I say, cutting her off.

She pulls away, still looking concerned, although more satiated than before.

Still, I cannot stop the twinge of hurt that comes from not being remembered. I suppose I can understand why, if what M'gann recalled was just from the day before and I _was _in Atlantis for most of that day so I would not have been in any of her memories then but…Poseidon it is irrational but not being remembered hurts! Especially when if I was remembered I probably would not have come so close to dying.

"How were you?" I ask, looking to Wally. "You would not have had much food to burn."

"Yeah, caught up to me," he says, chewing on an energy bar. "Could barely walk by the time we reached the Bio-Ship with you. Would've ran you there but I could barely lift myself."

I nod and, unwilling to have another M'gann concern-fest directed at me, do not mention that M'gann could have levitated me to the Bio-Ship or even, if Superboy's memories were restored by then he could have carried me. Even if Superboy's memories were not restored they could have just calmed him down, been nice to him, non-aggressive, and coaxed him into carrying me to the Bio-Ship. That was a long-shot, yes, but one to be considered.

"You said Superboy was in pain," I say abruptly, looking back at M'gann.

"The guys there," explains Superboy, "Bialyians, some scientists, and this telepath named Psimon – he was the one who messed with our minds – they were doing some experiments."

I can connect the dots. Experiments on Superboy.

"Did get a souvenir though," Superboy brightens. "I call him Sphere."

"Sphere?" I repeat, puzzled.

"Come on, he can't fit through the door but you have to meet him," he says, reaching out to grab my hand.

Wait, I have to leave the water? But it's water. I need water. Water is my lifeblood.

"I'll even carry you," he says, pulling me up so that I am standing in the tub.

I have no choice in the matter, apparently. I open my mouth to object to being carried but Robin speaks first, gesturing to my legs, "Did you always have those scars?"

"Black Manta attacked Atlantis when I was there last," I explain. "There was an explosion and the boiling water burned parts of my legs. The burns were minor and easily dealt with."

I wonder if I have any scars on the soles of my feet from the sand. I will have to check later.

Artemis winces, "Ouch."

"Minor," I repeat. Superboy lifts me up with an arm under my knees and another around my back. I squeak in surprise and grab his neck instinctively.

He shoots me an irritated look, "I won't drop you. You're light."

"Super-strength," Wally comments as I release Superboy's neck and instead grab his shoulder to help keep myself supported. "I can't even lift her that easily."

"Did you seriously just call your boss fat?" Artemis asks incredulously.

"What? No! She's Atlantean! Her physiology, muscle density and stuff, makes her heavier than a human girl her size would be!" Wally retorts.

"That is true," I confirm, looking over Superboy's shoulder to Artemis. I look pointedly at Superboy, "I can walk, you know."

Superboy sets me down, though he does not release my waist. I suppose he thinks I may fall. If I was any worse I probably would, but this place is cooler than Bialya and I was just in water so I believe I will be able to stand fine. The physical contact is appreciated though, so I allow the arm to stay.

A gigantic, well, _sphere_ comes rolling toward us, beeping happily. It's silver, with some red detailing and what seems to be a red and orange and blue eye…thing, ocular device of some sort I think, atop it. Or below it. Or something. It – He – stops in front of Superboy and I.

"This is Sphere," Superboy introduces like a proud father. "He showed up in Bialya and helped us beat the bad guys. Sphere, this is Kalla AKA Aqualass, she's the leader of the Team so you have to do what she tells you to do."

Sphere beeps cheerfully. I reach out and Sphere rolls up, pressing his "eye" to my hand.

"Hello Sphere, it is nice to meet you," I say. "Thank-you for helping the Team."

Sphere beeps again, cheerful, and I look at Superboy. He's practically beaming. I suppose, having something that is his, or someone that met him first and immediately helped him, is an affirmation of his right to be here, to be Superboy, to be _him_ and not simply a clone of Superman. That is good. I am happy for him.

"You need anything?" asks Artemis. "Food or…something?"

I turn, pulling away from Superboy. That was random.

I shake my head, "No, thank-you, Artemis."

"We could stay," offers Wally, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean, if you want."

"I am fine," I assure them. "You have school tomorrow though."

"Come on _Mom_ I'm smart, I don't need to go to school. It's too early," Wally mock-whines.

I sigh, "Please, do not call me that."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" asks Artemis as she heads to the zeta-tube with Robin and Wally. "We don't have to head home right away." She glances at M'gann, "We could do that team sleepover thing M'gann keeps talking about."

"Artemis, I am fine," I assure her. "I will soon be using Batman's advice and heading home myself. The sleepover will have to wait."

"Okay, if you're sure," says Artemis.

/ Recognized, Robin B01, Kid Flash B03, Artemis B07. /

The three vanish, leaving myself with Superboy and M'gann. I swallow then turn to them, "I will be heading to Atlantis. Would you like to accompany me?"

I have no doubt that my parents will be delighted to see Superboy again and I know that M'gann will take any chance she can get to learn more about Earth culture. It may also be easier for me to be around Tula and Garth with some…outsiders to the situation there. I will have a chance to inspect the issue of the Purists again as well.

"We'd love to!" M'gann exclaims, hopping up and clapping her hands. "I mean, _I_ would."

"Thought you just went," Superboy comments.

"Yes," I admit, "but I need, _want_, to return more often."

"So why wait until after the others took off?"

"Offering would be cruel as their bodies cannot withstand the extreme pressure at the bottom of the ocean. It seemed kinder not to make the offer in their presence."

He shrugs, "Whatever. Let's go."

"Actually," I say as he moves to the zeta-tube, "I thought that perhaps we could take a more scenic route."

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : September 6, 2010 – 01:31 UTC-03**

Superboy exhales sharply and a quick glance over confirms that his eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open in a pleasantly surprised smile.

I suppose that Shayeris, with its bright colours and apparently gravity-defying buildings would be astonishing to a surface-dweller. At the centre of the Shayeris dome is the palace, where the leaders of Shayeris reside and do their business. A little ways away from the centre is the military headquarters of Shayeris, where I tend to spend most of my working hours while in Shayeris. On the opposite side of the palace are the winding shops and businesses that make up the bulk of Shayeris' commerce sector. Matim's shop is in that area.

Most of the residences are located in random pockets throughout the dome, dominantly by the largest commerce sector and spread south of that area, where the largest class – middle – is located. The lower-classes are sequestered on the outskirts of the dome, which creates a rather inescapable economic circle that I often find either myself or my parents complaining about. Most of what is up north is focused on the military, the political and the educational sectors, and as such tends to hold the residences of the nobility.

"Welcome to Shayeris," I announce proudly.

"It's spectacular!" exclaims M'gann as she manipulates the Bio-Ship smoothly through the water.

"We will have to land the Bio-Ship here," I point to the military HQ, "where it will be protected by Shayeris and recognized as a friendly vessel."

"Okay," M'gann responds brightly and turns the Bio-Ship into the area I had gestured to. Immediately as it lands the soldiers on duty swim towards it.

I rise, prompting the other two to rise.

"Are you shorter?" asks Superboy immediately, glancing at M'gann who…looks about the same height as Robin actually, which is odd.

"It's the pressure," she explains. "Even the Bio-Ship is smaller at this depth."

My eyes widen, "I am sorry, I did not-"

"I'm fine, honest!" she cuts in.

"Okay, I have stocked the hold with more appropriate attire" – which took a while to find for Superboy, I finally had to dig in the back of my closet until I found one of Annex's training uniforms, which he left in the Cave as a 'just in case' for some reason – "and re-breathers."

"None for me, thanks," M'gann shakes her head. Her cape retracts into her uniform, her skirt turns into pants identical in structure to my own - I had switched the casual Atlantean wear for my uniform - while her sleeves and gloves vanish leaving her in a tank-top shirt with the same pattern as her usual t-shirt.

"Gills," Superboy snorts as said objects appear on her throat, "nice touch."

I do not comment. Although I probably should, and warn her that imitating gills may give her more problems than benefits, with or without green skin.

"These may be a little large, as they are Annex Orin's," I say as I stride past them and grab his uniform from the hold.

Superboy takes the green pants and sleeveless orange shirt with a faintly scandalized look. I consciously kept the golden Atlantean glyph out of the uniform, as I did not want him to appear to be imitating Annex and be a cause of disrespect.

"Orange?" he shoots me a look that is clearly meant to communicate 'why would you do this to me, why would you make me wear this, what did I ever do to you.'

"It is based on his uniform," I say defensively. "It is an honour."

He does not appear convinced.

"Put it on," I order, grabbing a re-breather out of the hold. I toss it to him, "And that. M'gann and I will be outside."

He looks ready to protest but instead simply grumbles under his breath as he tosses off his shirt.

I roll my eyes as I drop out of the Bio-Ship with M'gann.

"Kalladura'ham, we got the report that you were coming," one of the soldiers, a woman I recognize as Sergeant Knasso says with a grin as she swims up to us. "Arnis will be arriving at any moment."

"The King?" I repeat, raising my eyebrows in surprise as I return the green-scaled woman's salute.

Sergeant Knasso nods in confirmation, "One and only. You know how big of a fan he is." She smirks as my face does some odd dance between exasperation and resignation before settling on a stony cold. She tilts her head, causing the greyish-black hair jutting up from the centre of her scalp and peeking out from beneath her helmet to flutter in the water, and remarks wryly, "He would hardly pass up a chance to meet two of your fellow heroes, even if it is 1 in the morning."

"I suppose I should not be surprised," I sigh. "Sergeant Knasso, this is Miss Martian. Miss Martian, this is my good friend Sergeant Knasso."

"Call me Sarge if you want to be official, but Knasso works too," she says in cheery greeting.

"It's wonderful to meet you!" grins M'gann.

"Are you…typical of surface-worlders?" questions Knasso.

"Oh no, I'm actually Martian," M'gann answers with a shake of her head.

"That makes more sense, I did not think that green skin was common amongst humans," Knasso quips good-naturedly.

M'gann quirks a smile then turns sharply an instant before Superboy drops out of the Bio-Ship garbed in Annex's training attire and looking supremely uncomfortable about that fact.

"This is Superboy," I explain. "Superboy, this is Sergeant Knasso, one of my good friends here in Shayeris."

"Who she never calls to say 'hey, what's up'," Knasso mock-complains. "Call me Sarge or Knasso."

"Uh, hi," Superboy says awkwardly. "You speak English?"

"Blame her and her parents," Knasso says, pointing to me. "Now, are _you_ typical of surface-dwellers?"

"I'm Kryptonian."

Knasso looks personally offended and turns sharply to shoot a glare at me, "You bring surface-dwellers to Shayeris and you don't even have the basic decency to make sure that they are human?"

I roll my eyes, "I am a terrible person, Knasso."

"Yes, yes you are."

"What's so special about humans?" asks Superboy with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Atlantean-Human relations have not been entirely…amicable," Knasso explains, diplomatic for the moment. "Us Atlanteans like to get any chance we can to figure out what Humans are really like. It's a survival thing. You heard about the spill right? That's just a tiny example of-"

"Is that Arnis?" I cut in before Knasso can get on a Humans Are Evil rant. I rather doubted that M'gann or Superboy would recognize the joking part of her rant. She was mostly joking when she got on that rant. 'Mostly' being the operative word.

"Kalladura'ham!" Arnis exclaims, flinging his pure arms up as he approaches me. "You have returned! This is an exciting time!"

"I have not been gone for long," I object as he salutes me and I return the salute.

"Perhaps, but Shayeris is always proud to have her greatest citizen back in her territory," Arnis says.

"My apologies for interrupting your rest, my king."

"Arnis! It is Arnis! Must I remind you every single time we have a conversation? It is Arnis to you, my dear! And who are these lovely friends of yours?"

"Miss Martian, Superboy, meet Shayeris' King, Arnis," I introduce, gesturing to the portly pure man with the dark skin and white hair tied back into four skinny braids at the nape of his neck. "My k – apologies – Arnis, meet Miss Martian and Superboy."

"It is an honour to meet you both," Arnis says delightedly, shaking their hands. "You must be tired and be heading to Sha'lain'a's and Calvin's place for some rest, but I insist you visit the palace at least once before you return to the surface!"

"We will be traveling to Poseidonis," I say apologetically, "and my friends have commitments on the surface that they cannot miss. We are on a time-crunch I am afraid, K-Arnis."

"Ah, protecting the world and all that," Arnis shakes his head, "I understand, Kalladura'ham. But you really must stop by next time you are in Shayeris. It has been too long since your presence has graced my dining room!"

"I will try," I lie. "We really must be going though. I promised my parents we would visit them immediately."

"Of course, of course, go, go," Arnis insists. "We will talk later, Kalladura'ham!"

With a forced smile I lead M'gann and Superboy away from him, Knasso and the others.

I know I should keep relations between us good, but I get overwhelmed by the man within five seconds of speaking to him. I have eaten dinner with him a grand total of five times. Each time I have had to restrain myself from poking out my eyeballs with a fork, or stabbing him. I faked sick twice to leave early. Third time my matim made something in the kitchen explode just to get him out of our house. Two times I actually remained present for the entire meal, both times in which Annex was also present, which I suppose says something about the change in my behaviour when I am with my mentor.

Fortunately, my inability to remain in Arnis' presence for more than five minutes without wanting to stab something does not extend to his aptitude for leading Shayeris. He is excellent at his job. Truly, one of the best people for the job. I can handle him in professional settings. The casual settings are the ones I could live without.

"King Arnis seems…nice," comments M'gann. "Very enthusiastic."

"He is a good king," I say.

Superboy snorts.

I can see as we swim past the centre of Shayeris and get beyond the commerce sector of the city-state that Superboy and M'gann are noticing a difference between the buildings here, in the southern side of the city-state, and the buildings closer to the centre, by the north. They do not say anything. The difference is small, simply smaller homes, residences that are not as bold in their decorative choices with gems and jewels, and a greater percentage of which require work done to them to make them pristine. Silently, I am thankful that we do not have to go to the furthest reaches of Shayeris' southern side. We entered from the north, purposefully on my part as I did not wish to have to explain the class divides that remain entrenched deep in this area of Atlantis. They are lesser here in Shayeris than they are in other areas, such as Tritonis, but they remain obvious even to outsiders.

Popularly, to many surface-dwellers, Atlantis remains an example of harmony, something to be emulated although perhaps not in the governing sense with the monarchy and city-states. Atlantis promotes that popular perception, having decided many years ago that it was best to be admired as a strong, unified, and harmonious and idyllic nation.

The other options, to be viewed as lesser to the surface-nations or to be viewed as a nation to be feared, are far from ideal for Atlantis. Both merely bring up the old issues of Atlantean-Human relations, most of which resulted in bloodbaths and pro-humanists poisoning Atlantis both literally and figuratively with their overarching doctrine. The option to be viewed as lesser will likely never be embraced. It is the latter option, to be feared, that most concerns me.

The legends of bloodthirsty creatures of the ocean depths, of krakens, of mermaids seducing sailors to their doom, of creatures that rise from the depths and devour ships whole, did not come to exist from imagination. At least, not all of them. A number of the legends were a product of pro-humanist propaganda, but plenty were based on fact. Even while Atlantis does not, technically, encompass every metre of every ocean on the planet, its territory still encompasses the largest amount of any nation on the planet and it holds a deep knowledge of that which is in its depths. The civilian surface-dwellers have explored less than 5% of the world's oceans. The Justice League has explored closer to 20%. Atlantis has explored closer to 80% of the world's oceans. If Atlantis can do anything it can do fear.

Being trusted is much better. Less chance of people trying to attack us, trying to test the tales of bloodthirsty mermaids and impenetrable mysticism. It is to our benefit that we are believed to be an idyllic and strong nation, one to be admired and emulated, not to be feared or thought of as lesser.

With that in mind I should really be shielding the surface-dwellers I bring to Atlantis from the class divides and from the Purist bigotry. They hardly contribute to the perception of Atlantis as an idyllic nation. The surface-dwellers observing the visible differences is nearly unavoidable though. I will not bring it up if they do not.

Thankfully, they do not bring it up and we arrive at my parents' home nearly silent.

Matim and Patera, both looking a little tired, greet us brightly. Matim immediately moves forward to hug me tightly then pulls away too quickly for my liking, commenting in Atlantean, "Kalla, you look thin!"

"Mother, please," I sigh, switching to English for the benefit of Superboy and M'gann, though I do know that Superboy can speak Atlantean and M'gann can psychically translate it.

_::: You really do look thinner, ::: _Matim comments through our telepathic link.

_::: I will explain later, ::: _I promise, trying not to transmit my lingering stress through the link.

"Sha'lain'a, let her breathe," Patera urges, switching to English as well.

Of course, the instant Matim releases me Patera moves in. He wraps his arms tightly around me and I clamp my arms around him as I press my face against his shoulder, suddenly immeasurably grateful for the presence of my parents and suddenly wishing dearly that I had come alone. I just want to rest in the arms of my parents, protected from the heat and the sun.

He seems to sense my need and tightens his hold on me, his hand moving up to cup the back of my head as Matim moves to greet Superboy with a hug.

"What happened?" he asks, switching to Atlantean.

"Later," I promise. I pull away from him and explain to Superboy and M'gann, "Superboy, you know my parents. Miss Martian, these are my parents, Sha'lain'a and Calvin Durham."

"Call me M'gann, please," M'gann requests, grinning as Patera moves to greet Superboy. She looks at myself and my matim then comments with a grin, "You look a lot like your mother, Kalla!"

"Ah, thank-you," I say uncertainly, looking at my matim and attempting to spot the similarities beyond our height and colouring.

"Indeed!" Patera grins, reaching out and tugging me to him with one arm, "The two most brilliant and beautiful women in Atlantis and they consider me worthy of their company! I'm honoured everyday by it, I swear."

"Father!" I protest, tugging lightly on his arm as it clamps me to his side. "You mustn't say such-"

"The Queen is smart and beautiful and all, but you and your mom are better, Princess."

I freeze at the nickname. Why now? Why? Really, it had to be _now?_

"Calvin, come now," Matim swims over to us, "you're embarrassing her in front of her friends."

"I think it's cute!" M'gann laughs.

Cute? I am not…I can't…_ugh._

Patera releases me and objects, "We're the cool parents. We've always been the cool parents."

"Are you heading to Poseidonis this trip?" asks Matim.

"We will be going in the morning," I confirm.

"It is morning."

"_Later_ in the morning. I do apologize for waking you up so early."

"Nonsense," Matim waves her hand nonchalantly. "We are both used to keeping odd hours. But, that is hardly what is important right now. You three must be famished, come, I am sure we have something you can munch on while you tell us all about your adventures." She glances at M'gann, "You must have a few stories, traveling here from Mars."

"Earth is fascinating," M'gann says. "I'm really happy to be here."

"What was Mars like?" asks Matim as she rummages around for some food and we pause at the table. "It must be quite different from Earth."

"Very."

"What's the biggest difference?"

"Not everyone is telepathic," M'gann answers immediately. "That was a big adjustment."

"I imagine it would be," Matim agrees unnecessarily. "Here, some leftovers from dinner. Eat up," she looks pointedly at me, "especially you. You're too skinny."

I take a mouthful of fish. She rolls her eyes.

"I heard that there are different types of Martians," Matim says. "Green and…"

M'gann stills almost imperceptibly then nods, "Yes. Green, White and Red."

"Similar to different races on Earth then or completely different?"

"Similar…in a sense," M'gann shrugs. "It's a Green majority, which influences the society."

Patera frowns, "And White and Red are…?"

She stares at the food in front of her, introspective, "The Red are royalty, while White are treated as second-class citizens." She looks up sharply, her eyes widening minutely, "I'm Green, of course, but it's wrong. It's completely wrong."

"Don't have to tell us that," Patera says with a light snort and crosses his arms. "I'm an ex-con black man genetically altered to have gills. It's not as if I have supporters lining up at the door."

Matim glances at him and silently rests her hand on his while her opposite hand grasps a section of her blonde hair tightly. I stiffen.

Patera nods to Matim and I, "They certainly haven't been treated much better."

M'gann glances at me in minor surprise, "Really?"

I shrug, "Yes, but usually they underestimate me because of it."

"You take advantage of their stupidity and bigotry," Matim says.

"Essentially, yes," I admit.

"Oh," says M'gann. She falls silent.

"Superboy, have you been trying any other names out, or are you going to stick with Superboy?" asks Matim abruptly, breaking the silence.

Superboy jumps at being addressed and shakes his head, "No. I'm still Superboy."

"I'm betting your fighting had improved though," says Patera with a grin.

Superboy smirks, "Definitely."

"Black Canary is our combat instructor," I explain.

"She is a good fighter," Matim says. "You are lucky to be training under her."

"You know her?" asks M'gann.

"Oh no, but I have seen her fight before," responds Matim. "She is one of the best. I would love a chance to spar with her."

"You fight?"

"I was Kalladura'ham's first combat instructor."

"She is not professionally trained," I point out.

Matim shoots a mock-glare at me, "I am trained. I am simply not trained in fancy martial arts so much as I am trained in how to brawl. I fight dirty. A fact I know you benefitted from, Kalla."

"True."

"I thought soldiers were supposed to be honourable," says M'gann, glancing at me in mild confusion.

Patera raises an eyebrow, "What soldiers have you been hanging out with?"

"I believe you are thinking of the ubiquitous White Knight on a White Horse," I remark. "Of which I am not one, nor do I intend to be."

"In real life, those guys would die the instant they stepped out of their castle," says Patera.

"Cynic," comments Matim.

"I prefer the term 'realist'."

* * *

**A/N:** In which Calvin, Sha'lain'a and Kalla together become 73% sassier, I discover that whenever I write about Atlantis I cannot stop, and there are heavy emotions here that make writing difficult. This got long.

Horace Slughorn inspired the creation of Arnis. I think it's a little obvious.

**Thanks to everyone who recently favourited or started to follow or review! There was a bit of an influx recently! Thanks!**


	24. Kalladura'ham 19

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice #14: Under the Surface and Young Justice #15: ...Here There Be Monsters._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, discrimination via Purists**_

_**Basically everything in this chapter that is spoken is done so in Atlantean. The only English used is done so over the psychic link (**__::: ABC. :::__**)**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_It is the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter."_

Marlene Dietrich

* * *

**19**

**National Palace of Atlantis, Poiseidonis, Atlantis : September 6, 2010 – 08:06 UTC-03**

I never did get a chance to tell my parents about Bialya. That is unfortunate, but I will live with it.

Matim did, however, warn me before we left of the increase in unrest in Poseidonis, originating from the Conservatory and revolving around the Purists. There does not, however, appear to be much of a problem that I can see. Granted, the palace tends to be neutral ground, but even when we were approaching the palace there was little evidence of the apparent Purist insurgence.

"Kalla, it is an honour to finally meet your friends and teammates," says Queen Mera in Atlantean.

I drop my saluting hand as M'gann says, with a twinge of awe, her telepathy enabling her to psychically translate, "The honour is all ours Queen Mera. I lived on Mars my whole life without ever meeting a member of the Royal Family!"

"There is a certain wisdom in inaccessibility," says Prince Orm, swimming into the throne room, "when the Queen carries the heir to the throne."

"Allow me to introduce my overly protective brother-in-law," Mera says wryly.

I turn to him and salute respectfully as he comments, "How can I be anything else while my brother is off playing Aquaman?"

"King Orin's work with the Justice League is hardly a game, my Prince," I point out as he prompts me to drop the salute.

"Of course," he nods diplomatically, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Still, I am glad you and your fellow champions are here, Kalladura'ham. There have been reports of unrest originating at the Conservatory of Sorcery."

"I have heard of the rumours," I remark. I turn my head to look back at M'gann and Superboy, "How would you like to meet my friends from the Conservatory?"

_::: You want us to investigate too? ::: _asks M'gann, establishing a psychic link quickly.

_::: No. This is supposed to be fun for you, a break of sorts, ::: _I answer.

_::: Will you be investigating? ::: _asks Superboy as I bid Orm and Mera farewell and lead the two aliens out of the palace.

_::: Yes. It is my duty. :::_

_::: Thought we were a Team. :::_

_::: We are, but the Team's and the Justice League's jurisdiction ends at the borders of Atlantis. Missions in Atlantis are handled by Atlantis. :::_

_::: Don't like surface-dwellers or something? :::_

_::: Past relations between the surface and the sea have until recently been less than favourable. The old suspicions and paranoia take time to flush them out, despite the best efforts of those Atlanteans who work alongside the surface-world. :::_

_::: Like you. :::_

_::: Like me. :::_

"Oh, this is gorgeous!" exclaims M'gann as we approach the Conservatory. "You studied here?"

"For a short while, yes," I confirm, turning to one of the training fields where I suspect most will be.

"Kalla!" I hear Lori shout, popping up from the bleachers and grinning broadly.

"Aqualass – I mean Kalla!" La'gaan exclaims, hopping up and swimming behind Lori to me.

Lori wraps her arms around me tightly and grins as she pulls back with her fin flipping to give room for La'gaan to move forward and give me his best salute. I return the salute, "La'gaan, I trust you have been doing your homework?"

"Of course!" he responds brightly, letting his hand fall. I wonder where Topo is.

"M'gann, Superboy, these are some of my former classmates," I explain, gesturing to Lori, La'gaan and the three behind them. "Lori Lemaris, La'gaan, Ronal" – the only other person in Poseidonis with the Curse of Kordax, though he has the advantage of being Pure – "Blubber" – to surface-dwellers he appears to be little more than a small whale, I've been seeing him around La'gaan more often lately – "and Nanaue Sha'ark."

"That's King Sha'ark, chum. And don't you forget it!" Sha'ark retorts in his usual manner.

"Of course, King Sha'ark, my apologies," I remark.

He shoots an unimpressed look at me, well aware that I am only humouring him. I ignore it.

"You're all so different!" says M'gann.

"Millennia ago Atlantis was a surface continent and its people were all surface-dwelling humans. The continent sank and by necessity the Atlanteans used science and sorcery to survive beneath the ocean. The continent expanded as the years passed and since then the populace of each city-state has evolved along its own course, which in turn has led to the differing legends of underwater creatures different surface-dwelling cultures have, as they were unaware of Atlantis' broad reach," I explain. "Now, Atlantis is a diverse nation and Poseidonis is the most diverse of all. The Conservatory draws the best and the brightest throughout Atlantis."

"It's wonderful!" M'gann grins. "My world could take lessons, _should_ take lessons."

Yes, well. It is not that idyllic.

"And are you two typical of the surface?" asks La'gaan, never missing a chance to learn more about the surface-world.

"Oh I've always loved mermaids!" M'gann gushes, looking past La'gaan to Lori beside me.

"Not exactly," says Superboy to La'gaan.

M'gann shifts, turning her legs into a green fin similar to Lori's.

"What do you think?" asks M'gann, turning to Lori.

"I am…flattered?" says Lori uncertainly, clearly uncomfortable with the imitation. M'gann beams and grins at Superboy.

Lori looks at me pointedly. I shift awkwardly under her gaze, well aware that she's rather unimpressed with me failing to inform M'gann of the issues that could come about from pretending to be an Impure Atlantean. Moreso of the disrespect it signals, as she could pass as Pure if she chose to and pretending to be Impure belittles the trials that the so-called Impure go through.

"Well, this has been charming," says Ronal caustically, "but I should go."

I frown, watching as he swims away. We were never great friends but through our status as Cursed by Kordax a timid kinship was formed so I know this is odd for him, leaving like this. He usually at least spends a few minutes being civil before he invokes his attitude. Although, I have not been around him much lately. I suppose he could have changed.

"What's the matter chum?" taunts Sha'ark. "Feeling outnumbered?"

Outnumbered? The only people he could be outnumbered by were the so-called Impure and Ronal was never-

"Kalla!"

I turn at the shout to see Tula and Garth swimming toward us, holding hands. I tense slightly and introduce, "M'gann, Superboy, these are my dearest friends, Tula and Garth."

"You are both welcome in Atlantis," says Garth.

"Yes, any friend of Kalla's is a friend of ours," Tula agrees, her hand tightening around Garth's. Their hands are linked, something they are able to do due to the lack of webbing between their fingers. I force a smile on my face as Tula releases Garth's hand abruptly and swims forward to hug me tightly. I return the hug and look past her shoulder, trying to distract myself from the feel of her against me, her arms tight around me. I spot Topo instead, trying and failing to be sneaky.

"Topo?" I question, pulling away from Tula. I swim past her, reaching out for him, confused by the fact that he was not trying to greet me like he usually did, "Topo, I want you to meet my friends-" I stop abruptly as I grab his wrist and turn him, catching sight of his torn shirt and something carved across his chest.

"Um, maybe some other-"

"Topo, what is this?" I ask in surprise, grabbing his shoulder with my free hand to still him so I can see his chest. My eyes widen and I feel my stomach surge up to my throat. I feel like vomiting.

Carved across his chest are ancient Atlantean runes, cooled but still tinged with blood so I know they are recent. The runes spell out a word I saw scrawled across my matim's shop once. It means 'Impure' but has far worse connotations than simply 'Impure.' It refers to the target of the word as filth, as less than dirt – to use the surface-world phrase – as unworthy, as dishonourable, as, again in surface-world vernacular, sub-human.

"Topo! Who did this to you?!" I exclaim, my grip on his wrist tightening.

Lori pushes me to the side and grabs Topo with La'gaan, "It does not concern you Kalladura'ham."

What?! I have been called that before! Topo is my friend and Purists assaulted him! I am a protector of Atlantis! It most certainly concerns me!

Stunned by her accusation, I still. Sha'ark swims past me, following the other three and Blubber, "Squidboy's chum and chum gets what it deserves. Swallowed."

"I couldn't read those markings," says Superboy as the others leave.

"They are ancient Atlantean runes," explains Tula.

"Spelling what?"

"Impure."

I want to punch something but Tula puts a hand on my shoulder and begins, "Kalla, we-"

"Speak to me of Topo," I order, pulling away from her and swimming away from the Conservatory in the direction the others went.

"He was a victim of the Purists," Garth says.

I resist the urge to punch something again.

"The Purists?" asks M'gann.

Garth explains, "They consider themselves the direct descendants of the original Atlanteans-"

"And attempt to scare anyone they consider Impure into leaving Poseidonis," finishes Tula.

"What qualifies as Impure?" asks M'gann. "You all breathe water."

"Tula and I appear human and thus are considered Pure," explains Garth.

"But my visible gills and webbing render me Impure," I add.

Tula exclaims sharply, "But only by the most rigid and ridiculous standards!"

There should not be any standards.

"I was just here," I say, glancing at Tula, "and there was no word of this."

"The old prejudices have always lurked under the surface, Kalla, but the clash between skin and scales, flesh and fins, has escalated rapidly and seemingly without cause into violence and intimidation."

"Here," I say bitterly, massaging my once broken finger. "It has escalated here. It has usually been violence and intimidation in other city-states where the Purist doctrine has more of a hold, despite the efforts of those against them."

Garth hesitates, "You would know better than us."

"LET GO OF ME!"

We speed up at Ronal's shout and break over a gathering of rocks to find Sha'ark holding Ronal by his collar. Lori is shouting at Ronal and the three Pure Atlanteans with him, "We know you are Purists! You cannot hide behind your robes and hoods!"

La'gaan and Blubber are beside her. Topo is wisely remaining in the back with his arms over his chest gingerly. I must get him to a healer.

"Do we appear to hide, barbarian?!" one of the Pure Altanteans shouts.

A second Pure Atlantean snaps, "Your kind already infects Tritonis, Nanauve, Neptunos, Lemuria, Shayeris-"

"Even Crastinus!"

Ronal would not…

"Sha'ark, what are you doing with Ronal?" I shout, my hands ready to grab my water-bearers. I desperately want to punch the Pure Atlanteans.

"Preparing supper," he growls.

"You will let him go!" M'gann demands, telekinetically separating them.

"Careful Earther! Come between a shark and his meal and you become the meal!"

"Try me instead, you'll break your teeth _chum_," Superboy challenges.

"Who started this?!" I demand sharply, swimming between Lori and Ronal who look ready to rip one another's heads off.

"They did!" they shout in unison.

"My friends and I were minding our own business when the Fish-Heads attacked us!" Ronal shouts.

My eyes widen sharply. Ronal was always antagonistic but this…

"And what was Topo doing when your friends attacked him?!" Lori challenges, grabbing Topo by the arm.

He winces visibly and whimpers, "Please, leave me out of this."

"You cannot know that was us!" Ronal retorts.

"But if your kind like not your treatment here, you're welcome to leave Poseidonis!" the female Pure Atlantean retorts with a wide smirk.

That's it.

I whip out my water-bearers.

"This is not your concern, Earther," says Sha'ark, pushing Superboy to the side.

"But it is ours," I hiss, forcing myself, Tula and Garth between the two groups.

I look pointedly at Sha'ark. He seems to get the message, that fighting a small group of Purists here is hardly to his benefit or his city-state's, and he grabs Topo's shoulder, "C'mon chum. Let's swim."

The groups swim away. Tense, I holster my water-bearers.

"Kalla?" ventures Tula.

"I am well. I must go the palace though, and you have classes."

Tula nods awkwardly, "It was nice to see you, Kalla. Do contact us if you need our help."

"I will," I promise.

They leave.

"Let's go," I say, turning to Superboy and M'gann. "I will give you a tour of the palace."

* * *

**National Palace of Atlantis, Poiseidonis, Atlantis : September 6, 2010 – 23:50 UTC-03**

_::: Superboy, M'gann, perhaps you would prefer the Bio-Ship to sleeping in Atlantean pods? ::: _I question as we head to our respective pods in the guest wing of the palace.

_::: I'd be fine, if you'd just stop calling them 'pods,' ::: _says Superboy, lying back.

_::: I prefer this, Kalla. It reminds me of being back in the womb, :::_ M'gann explains.

I probably should not be surprised by that. I nod, satisfied, and lean back into my pod.

"_Kalladura'ham!"_

I shoot up at the Atlantean shout and stare, wide-eyed, at the mystical projection of Anassa Mera hovering above me and shouting, _"Ocean Master is attacking and overpowering me! Aqualass!"_

I scramble out of the pod, exclaiming over the psychic link, _::: Come, the Queen is in danger! :::_

Superboy and M'gann follow me quickly. We come upon Ocean Master and his followers exiting Annex's and Anassa's quarters at the fork of the hallways. One of his followers is carrying the unconscious Anassa.

"Hold, traitors!" I shout in Atlantean, pulling out my water-bearers and advancing.

Three of Ocean Master's followers break off. Miss Martian, Superboy and I make quick work of them and Ocean Master and a few of his followers cut off down the opposite fork while the rest of his followers stay behind to hold us off.

"Delay them!" Ocean Master orders before he rounds a bend in the corridor.

I send my mace into the gut of one and my blade slices across the belly of another. A follower tackles me, slamming me into the wall with his forearm pressing against my throat. Superboy grabs my attacker by the back of his robes and twists, sending him crashing face-first into the wall beside me. I propel myself off the wall to tackle another follower to the ground. I spin, sending out a water-whip to lash around the waist of another. That follower falls unconscious the instant she hits the wall.

_::: We mustn't let Ocean Master take the Queen! ::: _I say hurriedly as I swim past the fallen enemy and follow the trail of Ocean Master.

"You know where to take her," Ocean Master barks outside the palace, falling behind his followers as we approach.

"You will not take her anywhere!" I shout as we round the corner to exit the palace.

"So now the Fish-Head issues commands?" Ocean Master scoffs, baring his infuriating trident. "A little time among royalty and she believes herself royal as well. But proximity does not create majesty, Fish-Head, nor wisdom apparently. The Royal Palace has spells in place, allowing only the use of defensive magic."

He slams his trident forward and instinctively I form a shield. The electrical spell surges with mystic energy that quickly overwhelms my shield as I hear Miss Martian and Superboy shout in pain. The energy snaps up my water-bearers and into my arms. My channels glow for an instant before suddenly the energy is ricocheting off them and sending surging pain across my body.

I fall back, my grasp on my water-bearers failing. Dimly, I hear Ocean Master remark, "Outside the palace is quite a diff…"

* * *

**September 7, 2010 – 00:41 UTC-03**

"I have sent word to King Orin, but Aquaman is on a mission with the Justice League and cannot be reached," explains Orm, "so it is up to us to save our Queen."

"And the heir she carries," I add.

"Of course," he agrees, leaning over the map projected onto the table. "Now, my sources inform me of two possible Purist strongholds, but as members of the Royal Guard may have been complicit in the abduction I will investigate one location with the few guards I trust implicitly," he looks to me, "while you and your two surface friends investigate the other."

I nod and return my PDA to my pack with the coordinates inputted, "Agreed. Be careful, Prince Orm. Ocean Master is dangerous."

He doesn't say anything and I leave with Miss Martian and Superboy.

_::: This is the opposite direction we're supposed to be going, isn't it? ::: _asks Superboy after a few minutes.

_::: Yes, but I wish to make a quick stop, ::: _I explain as I swim into the Conservatory's dormitories. _::: I have doubts of the loyalty of those in Prince Orm's inner circle and believe that back-up would be wise. Welcome to the girls dormitories of the Conservatory. :::_

I come to a stop in front of the quarters of Lori. I knock sharply then open the door and hiss, "_Lori._"

"What the…" Lori shoots a glare at me then looks hastily over at her roommate, who remains sleeping. Lori rises from her pod and hurries out of the room with me. "What are you doing here? It is one in the morning!"

"How do you feel about battling Purists?"

Her eyebrows shoot up, "What are you talking about?"

"Go with Superboy and M'gann to the boys dormitories and start gathering our friends. I will get Tula."

"Is this Aqualass stuff?"

"Very much so."

"Okay," Lori nods. She looks to Superboy and M'gann, "Come on, let's grab the boys."

* * *

**Old Roman's Trench, Atlantis : September 7, 2010 – 01:31 UTC-03**

Rising on either side of us are massive cliffs. The perfect spot for an ambush, as I suspected. Orm said that one of the Purist strongholds is deep within this trench, which is entirely likely, however I do doubt that those who gave him such information were acting out of loyalty to Atlantis. The source could very well be one of Ocean Master's followers, or one of the Purists.

_RrrumbleccrreeeaaASH!_

A massive chunk of rock tumbles off one of the cliffs and comes to a crash right in front of us. I look up to the top of the cliffs, along which are many cloaked and robed figures. Purists, working for Ocean Master.

They attack.

_CRACK!_

The rock cracks beneath us as we are slammed against one side of the trench.

I had feared this would happen. Prince Orm's inner circle is rife with traitors.

On cue my friends emerge from their hiding spots, Lori having gathered the boys – Garth, Blubber and King Sha'ark – as asked and Tula having given them all the plan I gave her. They attack the Purists pinning myself, M'gann and Superboy. We dart forward once free and I spot La'gaan, who appears to have tagged along. I had suspected he would tag along.

M'gann moves into camouflage mode almost immediately.

"Victory is at hand!" Garth declares as Superboy and I enter the fray, of which there is little to do in. My friends are good.

"And then we feast!" declares Sha'ark.

"No, we do not!" Lori objects.

"Lemaris, you really are a-" Sha'ark stops abruptly, just as pain rushes through my body.

I buckle over, unable to contain a groan as my muscles begin to ache and my head begins to pound.

"Suddenly…so…weak…" I groan.

"The Master has succeeded! The Impure are cleansed!" one of the Purists shouts.

"Finish off the Fish-Heads, the Race-Traitors and the Earther!"

"Shall we begin with the so-called King of Nanauve? That will send a message to every city-state in Atlantis!

Shit. _No._ Shit.

"Do…your…worst…soon my people…will feast…on all of Poseidonis…" Sha'ark retorts.

Black ink suddenly surrounds him, pluming into clouds of darkness around him and everyone else. The Purist shouts, "What new sorcery is this?!"

Of course he would. La'gaan is rarely separated from him and Topo knows the dangers of confronting the Purists. I catch a glimpse of Topo grabbing Sha'ark in the plume of inky darkness he created. Then he vanishes from my view as the dark plume obscures my vision.

Tula grabs me, her hand tight around my waist, and curses, "We may only have won a reprieve. I can see nothing and cannot take advantage of this."

"That's okay, I can," says Superboy. He must be nearby then. I hear the sounds of Superboy attacking, taking out the remaining Purists, and slowly the water clears.

"Superboy has won the battle!" Tula cheers.

"But not…the war…" I point out. _::: M'gann, are you still in range? :::_

_::: I'm here, Kalla. Following the Purist we allowed to escape, as planned, ::: _M'gann reports. _::: Sending you a mental image of the location now. :::_

I nod as the image forms in my mind, _::: Yes, I see it. S'atiroman Cave. Wait for us. :::_

I open my eyes and watch as Superboy finishes restraining the Purists. Resting on the rocks, nearly unconscious, are Sha'ark, Blubber, La'gaan and Topo. Lori swims up to my side, looking as thrown as I feel.

"Topo, La'gaan, Sha'ark and Blubber are in no condition to battle," I say, rubbing my temples and trying to trick myself into thinking that I am not as weak as I feel. It feels like Bialya all over again. My arms are shaking.

"Neither are you and Lori. Leave this to Garth, Superboy and I-"

"No," I object, cutting off Tula. "Ocean Master is too dangerous...and his Purists are…are too great in number."

"Besides," Lori adds, "if we 'Fish-Heads' do not fight our own battles it becomes but a new excuse for the Purists' contempt."

That too.

We advance on S'atiroman Cave quickly, just as M'gann reports that the Purist she had followed was Ronal and that Ocean Master was using the Purists to stage a coup on Anassa and Annex. Ronal moves to attack Ocean Master and then the psychic link cuts out abruptly.

We enter the cave in time to hear Ocean Master shout, "-they cannot take the heat!"

Queen Mera is on the ground, chained. M'gann is enveloped in boiling water, screaming.

Superboy shouts, getting ahead of me, "LEAVE HER ALONE!"

"The Kryptonian Surfacer, so powerful yet so vulnerable," Ocean Master snaps and sends a blast of magic at Superboy, making his re-breather explode.

I swear. I cannot just create a bubble of air around his head. I have to have access to air to do that and create a tunnel from the surface down to where the bubble needs to form. The only option would be to try and loan some of my air to him, which is risky at the best of times and now with me still weak-

"You cannot fight us all, villain!" Tula shouts.

M'gann shouts, _::: Superboy! :::_

Ocean Master laughs, "Are you so sure of that, child?!"

Energy explodes from around him, sending us careening backwards. I hit a wall of the cave and immediately search for Superboy.

_::: Hold on, Superboy, I've got you! ::: _M'gann exclaims, diving down to where he's sinking. Good, okay, good. She would be a better option for sharing air, able to shapeshift so that it isn't quite as risky. Good.

"The key, you see, is to target your weakest opponents first, such as those already suffering from my mystic attack on the Impure!" Ocean Master roars, creating an immense construct of a Giant Squid.

I react instinctively, slicing through the limbs, barely able to keep track of where everyone else is. Tula is at my back. Lori is near the bottom of the cave trying to create shields while Ronal is above her and slicing any limbs that try to get close to them.

"We will see whose actions are futile," Garth shouts as he dodges a limb, creating a collection of mystic energy between his hands, and moves closer to Ocean Master, "I summon the power of THE TEMPEST!"

Water surges around Garth, gathering at his hands and snapping out as an immense collection of spiralling concentrated mystic energy and pressurized water. The tempest collides with Ocean Master, breaking his concentration and slamming him against the rear wall of the cave.

My strength returns like a burst of adrenaline.

"Oh, so close child!" Ocean Master mocks, gripping his trident firmly. "But the Ocean Master is not thus easily defeated!"

"Perhaps not," I snap as Mera rises beside me, her channels surging across her body, "but your spells are all broken and without Queen Mera's power you cannot stand against us all."

Mera is furious. She advances on Ocean Master and her voice cuts like ice through the water, "I recover rapidly, _miscreant_. Would you risk my full wrath?"

"No. I suppose not," says Ocean Master, slicing his trident point down, "but soon, soon."

Mystic energy envelops him completely and he vanishes. My whip flicks through empty water.

* * *

**National Palace of Atlantis, Poseidonis, Atlantis : September 7, 2010 – 06:01 UTC-03**

"Good work," says Orin, having arrived shortly after my friends and I returned with Mera and a number of captured Purists. He just finished pardoning Ronal, an act which I do not understand at all.

I nod sharply, standing in the middle of his office with him behind his desk. He looks tired. He must have gotten about as much sleep as I have lately.

"Batman informed me of the Team's most recent mission," Orin says.

I clasp my hands behind my back.

"Batman should not have assigned the Team that mission. It was a moderately dangerous mission to go on in the first place, with the situation in Bialya and Queen Bee's rule. That danger merely increased with the leader of the Team so vulnerable in that climate." Orin looks annoyed, "Batman should have left that mission as a League mission, and I'm sorry you and the Team paid the price of his foolish decision."

I always knew that he had no problems criticizing members of the League. This is different though. Batman is, _Batman_, his reputation is legendary. More to the point, he is the Team's General.

"Respectfully, sir, no one was aware that Queen Bee had a telepath working for her," I point out, "and he – Psimon – was the one who caused the mission to fail."

"That is not what I am concerned about, Kalla," Orin says, rising from behind his desk. "What I am concerned about is that the decision to send an Atlantean into the middle of a desert where radio silence is a necessity is dangerous enough. Sending an Atlantean with no desert experience – who is also in charge of an inexperienced team – into the middle of a desert where radio silence is a necessity is, at this point, one of the most dangerous things I can think of putting the Team through." He continues firmly as he comes around his desk, "I am aware that Psimon and Queen Bee are bad people and I will blame them for the attack on your mind and the minds of your Team; but it was still Batman's decision to send the Team on this mission and it was a bad decision. A decision you nearly paid for with your life."

I fall silent. He has a point.

"What did you think when Batman said that you would be leading the Team into Bialya without a way of contacting the League beyond Miss Martian's telepathy?"

I lick my lips and tighten my hands behind my back, "I was…uncertain. Grateful, as it seemed to be a sign that Batman approved of how I had been leading the Team thus far, but as you have said, I have never been in the middle of a desert and I do not do well with heat or the sun. It was unexpected."

"Did you tell Batman that?"

"I did not."

"If you're uncertain about a mission, tell him. Do to him the same thing you do to me when we go on missions. Ask questions."

"Yes, sir."

"How are you handling the aftermath of Bialya?"

"I will adapt."

"How did you handle it?"

"Batman did not tell you?"

Orin just looks at me. I take that to mean that Batman did tell him but he wishes to hear it from me.

I modulate my voice carefully, moving into my Report Voice, "I was told that I passed out on the Bio-Ship. Martian Manhunter and some water the Team had hooked me up to kept me alive until we reached the Cave. I was dunked into the medical wing's tub, and I suspect that the actions of the League members there saved my life. After I woke, Martian Manhunter restored my memories. The experience was overwhelming." I inhale deeply, "I had a display of insecurity in front of Batman. I was overwhelmed, and did not believe that I was doing a good job leading the Team. I did not think that I would ever be able to lead the Team well. I said that Bialya had terrified me." I swallow, my Report Voice rapidly vanishing, "I explained that the worst of it was that when I collapsed in the desert and stared up at the sky I was conscious enough to realize that I was dying, that I could not prevent it, and that I was alone while it happened. I did not wish to be alone."

"You are not."

I look away for a moment. Abruptly, I ask, "Sir, if I may, why did you pardon Ronal?"

"Excuse me?"

I look back at him, my shoulders stiffening as I repeat, "Why did you pardon Ronal? He is a Purist, and the only reason he fought against Ocean Master was because Ocean Master wished to overthrow you."

"Is that not a good reason to oppose Ocean Master?" he asks, frowning.

"Of course it is," I say, "but that does not change the fact that Ronal is a Purist. We have witness accounts of Ronal engaging in Purist activity. He wore the robes, and he has freely stated that he is a Purist and has been a Purist for a number of months. Yet you gave him a full pardon. I do not understand why."

"There is one witness account and it is from a Martian girl. That is not enough evidence for anyone to convict Ronal of anything. Wearing the robes and hoods of the Purists is not enough to convict anyone either. The only reason he has been identified as a Purist is because he says he has been a Purist and that is supported by his associations with known Purists – such as those you and your friends brought in. Ronal is 16-years-old, he has his entire life ahead of him and he made some foolish mistakes. He is learning how to correct what he learned to be right. I am giving him a chance to learn and abandon the Purist ideas and become a valuable graduate of the Conservatory."

That is unsatisfying. Ronal was once my friend, but that does not mean that I do not believe he deserves some punishment for his actions.

"Besides," he continues, "I have no doubt that the treatment he is receiving from his classmates is more than enough punishment."

"Do you truly believe that everyone in the Conservatory is against the Purists?" I question.

"No. But you have a significant amount of influence on the students there, and it has given those against the Purists a boost in the influence they have on the Conservatory and its students. Those against have the advantage of numbers."

"Permission to speak frankly, sir?"

"I welcome it."

"The Conservatory does not exist in a vacuum," I protest. "The Conservatory has power through its Pure leaders, such as Queen Mera, not through anyone deemed Impure. The Pure are the powerful in Atlantis, and have been so for generations, but because that is slowly changing to be more equalized the Purists are angry and scrawling the most demonizing slurs across the flesh of those they deem Impure. To give a Purist, even a young one, a pardon, is…it is frustrating, sir. I highly doubt that anyone Impure in a similar situation as Ronal would be able to be granted a full pardon without pressure from the powerful Pure majority to have the pardon reversed."

"I do not follow the Purist doctrine, Kalla," he retorts, his voice sharp. "If Ronal were Impure he would receive the same treatment - a pardon. I am disappointed that I have given you cause to think otherwise, but my decision still stands. Ronal is pardoned."

My jaw tightens, "Of course, sir. My apologies."

It would be inappropriate to say what is on my mind. I know that.

I realize that, intellectually, he does not follow the Purist doctrine, but seeing as how such a great number of the Prince's inner circle do follow those ideas I do not believe it to be such a farfetched theory that perhaps those in his inner circle are similar. I do know that in some cases, such as those in which full pardons are granted, he must have the approval of his inner circle to avoid causing some significantly debilitating national incidents.

The current CEO and owner of Klymene & Tethys is A'estus. His company is a weapons manufacturer with a deal with the Atlantean Military. Making A'estus, or his family, unhappy either through the pardoning of Ronal or not would result in either the Military losing the contract or the Monarchy being forced to dissolve Klymene & Tethys into a subset of the Military instead of a separate entity. That would result in, firstly, A'estus and his family being furious. Their family is one of the most powerful noble families in Atlantis, with A'estus leadership over Klymene & Tethys and his sister's leadership over the massive northern city-state of Nai'ada. With Nai'ada being the central hub of the North Atlantic and Arctic, and also currently embroiled - in partnership with the Atlantean Monarchy - in the issue of travel through and ownership of the Northwest Passage, Nai'ada is far from a city-state able to be ignored. Secondly, the loss of the contract could result in a resurgence of the groups that want to push for a different form of government. Undoubtedly, those people would perceive the dissolving of Klymene & Tethys into the Atlantean Military as the Atlantean Monarchy stomping arbitrarily all over its citizens, much like the chaotic movements of Atlantean soldiers back in the late 80s and early 90s. Those movements had resulted in more than a few soldiers being dishonourably discharged for attacking civilians for reasons disguised as "suspected illegal activity" but in fact was simply the soldiers taking advantage of their power and arbitrarily attacking civilians or groups they did not like. Those civilians were mainly the impoverished or the Impure. Something similar would be assumed to be taking place today, if Klymene & Tethys were to be dissolved.

The only other options I can think of for dealing with an angry A'estus, or whichever inner circle member is in question, are execution or imprisonment. Which are not good options. The Prince's inner circle is powerful, yes, but the inner circle of my mentor is even more powerful and to execute or imprison them would merely cause a ripple effect in calmer times. Now, I fear the ripples would be immense.

Abruptly, Orin speaks, "Have you realized, lately, that the attitude the average Atlantean has towards those with gills or blonde hair, is decreasing? That that prejudice is lessening?"

"I...no I suppose I have not," I say.

"It has been," he assures me. "At the same time, the tolerance the average Atlantean has towards those who speak with opinions against the Monarchy is decreasing. We have learned this through the results from the census and a few studies put out by the Monarchy and the Military." He must see my rise in interest because he adds, "I will get you on the email list for the results from the census and the studies. While there is no way to confirm the theory, we suspect that part of the reason for the change was you."

"Me?"

"Becoming Aqualass. You are in the public's eye, as Aqualass, and you are gilled and blonde. That has affected people."

Oh.

"It is improving," he repeats. "I promise. But in the meantime, my brother intends to deal with those traitorous sources that led both of you into ambush."

"He is well, then?"

"Quite," he confirms. "His team sustained only minor injuries. I ask though that you do not concern yourself with the danger presented against my family and myself by the Purists. We have dealt with attempts on our lives before."

"Understood."

"Focus on your team. You were meant to lead them."

A small smile spreads across my face and I salute him, "Thank-you, sir."

"How about we thank your friends and yourself officially now?" he suggests, pressing his hand lightly against my back to turn me towards the door.

"They will be honoured."

* * *

**A/N: **Originally this and the next chapter were together. Then I realized it was massive and I could split it up. So, two chapters today!

Lori is becoming another favourite! Headcanon is that in S2 she's this Atlantean soldier who's quickly gaining a reputation for complete and utter badassery ala Princess Pingyang, Rani Lakshmibai, and Hervor.

Take a wild guess as to what I'm referring back to in this fic with the mention of the bad behaviour of Atlantean soldiers during the late 80s and early 90s. I'll give you a hint: Sha'lain'a.

While we see in the companion comics a significant amount of people who protest against the Purists we still see many more Purists, and clearly Ocean Master believes they are numerous enough and powerful enough to serve his own interests. Because of that, I think that the Purists have a pretty major hold on Atlantean society. Enough, at the very least, to be a significant help to further Ocean Master's goal of conquering all of Atlantis. Atlantis would have had to experience a pretty major cultural shift – especially in regards to the prejudice against the Impure – prior to La'gaan becoming Lagoon Boy AKA a Champion of Atlantis, or La'gaan would have never been able to become Lagoon Boy. Thus, the last part of this chapter.

I included the Northwest Passage because I can't imagine Atlantis staying out of that issue. Ever.

**Thanks!**


	25. Kalladura'ham 20

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 110: Targets._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence**_

_**EDIT 03/06/13: Changed 09:56 PDT to 10:56 PDT, so it makes a bit more sense.**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart."_

Elisabeth Foley

* * *

**20**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : September 7, 2010 – 06:30 EDT**

With M'gann and Superboy prepping for school I find myself waiting by the zeta-tubes to see them off. My com-link beeps as I'm waiting and I answer immediately, "Aqualass."

::: Red Arrow. :::

I raise my eyebrows, surprised. I had not heard from Roy in quite a while. I had thought that perhaps he did not wish to contact me, or be contacted by me.

He continues, ignorant to my happy surprise, ::: I need access to the League's database and the exact height of the League of Shadows assassin known as Cheshire. :::

I pull up the holographic interface, type in my code to access the database and pull up the League of Shadows intel, followed by Cheshire's, "Checking…and Cheshire is 1.67 metres."

::: Um… :::

I smirk, "She is 5'6" and exceptionally dangerous. Do you require backup?"

::: Please, the last thing I need is the Junior Justice League. :::

"Just our computer," I remark as I track where his com-link is. "Good luck, my friend. Aqualass out."

Taipei, interesting. I believe there is a Peace Summit occurring there today between North and South Rhelasia. If Cheshire is there that can only lead to death, death and more death. Roy will deal with it, hopefully without killing himself in the process.

After a moment of searching, I pull up a live feed of the GBS in Taipei and raise an eyebrow as I find myself staring at an explosion. Roy, in a well-tailored suit, comes into view tackling Cheshire to the ground then being surrounded by various authorities of Taipei, North and South Rhelasia. The camera swings over to a white limo and the reporter, Cat Grant, explains, / "We have just witnessed an assassination attempt, _live_. Thankfully, no one seems to have been hurt, including our mystery arbitrator – Lex Luthor?" /

What.

Lex Luthor steps out of the car behind Cat Grant. I stare.

Why would...Lex Luthor? Really? Who's bright idea was that? I…what? Oh, he definitely has an angle to this, and I am willing to bet it is more than simply avoiding nuclear war between the two countries.

On the other hand, who would contract out a hit on Lex Luthor? And at a Peace Summit of all things?

**06:41 EDT**

"Ready for school?" asks M'gann, flying to Superboy ahead of myself, Red Tornado and Martian Manhunter. "I made our lunches!"

Superboy stands up from his bike, which he has been tinkering with for awhile, as Martian Manhunter, J'onn, remarks, "The beginning of the scholastic season carries great cultural significance. We want to wish you both well."

"Guess it's not a Kryptonian thing," Superboy comments as Sphere rolls to the side to let M'gann land in front of Superboy.

"You may wish to change before you depart," I suggest, looking pointedly at M'gann, green and in her skirted uniform.

M'gann grins, "I spent hours picking out this outfit!" Her uniform morphs into the usual skirt and sweater combo she wears when wanting to be in civvies, "What do you think? Can M'gann M'orzz pass as a normal Earth girl?"

I raise an eyebrow, looking at her green skin, "Ah-"

"Just kidding!" she hops up and twirls, her skin morphing from green to one that portrays her as a white human, with red hair of course. "Meet Megan Morse!" She looks to Superboy, "What's your new name?"

Did he not have that picked out for when the forms for the school application were filled out? Did Batman simply write down 'John Doe?'

"My what?" Superboy asks, looking bewildered.

"I chose the name John Jones," says J'onn, shifting into his human form, that of a bald black man currently wearing a suit and tie, "and suggested the name John Smith for Red Tornado. You could be a John too."

"Pass," he says, crossing his arms.

"Conner's always been my favourite name," says M'gann – Megan.

Superboy – Conner – shrugs.

"A last name will also be required," I point out.

"Perhaps, Kent," suggests J'onn – currently John.

"Oh! In memory of Doctor Fate, the late _Kent_ Nelson!" Megan beams.

John returns to J'onn, "Of…course."

"Okay, sure," says Superboy turned Conner Kent. "I guess it'd be an honour or something."

"Well, Conner Kent," says Megan, "time to change your shirt! You don't wanna reveal your identity!"

I highly doubt that wearing a Superman t-shirt will reveal his identity. Lots of people wear t-shirts with the symbols of superheroes on them.

Conner promptly takes off his shirt, flips it inside-out, then asks, "Will this work?"

"You do have other shirts," I point out. "I recall Pansy insisting you get at least one shirt that did not have that symbol on it. Unless, that is, you wish to go to school wearing an inside-out shirt. It is also an option to purchase more shirts later without the symbol on it, if you wish."

He looks at me, back to Megan, then sighs and flings the shirt over his shoulder, "I'll get another shirt."

I raise an eyebrow as he walks past us wondering out-loud, "Wait, shouldn't I be Conner _Nelson_?"

He has a point.

I look back at Megan. She is actually blushing. Cute.

After they leave I head back to the usual team training room, and continue monitoring the situation in Taipei. I quickly wind up distracted by my email inbox though, which my matim has sent consecutive emails to demanding that I contact her and explain my attitude when I last visited. She wants to know what happened. What happened in Bialya and what happened with the Purists.

I have to write my response underwater to keep myself somewhat calm.

oOoOo

**Sender: **aqualass.k  
**Date: **Tues, 7 September 2010 07:43:16 -0400  
**From: **Aqualass Kalladura'ham  
**Organization: **The Atlantean Monarchy  
**To: **sla_jc**  
****Subject: **An explanation

Matim,

I do not believe I can tell you about the Purist situation yet. I will tell you about the rest though. I am sorry, I should have told you what happened, I know you were concerned.

It was our most recent mission that threw me off balance. That's why I'm using this email instead of my other one. It's more secure, even if yours is not. Please, delete this after you read it.

The Team had a mission that involved going to a desert country. We were investigating on behalf of the League. We encountered a strong foe, a telepath, who attacked us. He wiped six months worth of our most recent memories. The psychic attack scattered the Team and knocked most of us out. We only remembered up to March.

I woke up in the middle of the desert, alone, and with my most recent memory being training with Tula. I thought it was still March. I was supposed to be in Atlantis but I was in the desert. Which also happened to be crawling with hostiles.

I walked. I have scars on my feet from the sand because of how much I walked and how hot the sand was. I had to drink some of my combat water. I vomited it back up every time I drank it though so it did not help much. I hallucinated water in the desert and tried to drink it. I wound up with a mouthful of sand instead. I vomited, a lot, thanks to my combat water and then the sand. Poseidon, I remember the heat even now. I remember the sun. I remember thinking that this must be what humans feel when they are drowning.

I tried to keep going, but I just could not do it. My body would not let me. I collapsed in the middle of the desert, unable to move. I was alone. I was scared. I was dying and...I was alone. I suppose that is what most sticks with me now, being alone while I died.

I'm fine now. The Team found me and got me hooked up to some water. The mentors that could be were at the Cave when we arrived, apparently, and Martian Manhunter met the Bio-Ship halfway there and helped us. Martian Manhunter and Batman probably saved my life.

The Team told me, after I woke up and had my memories restored by Manhunter, that initially when Miss Martian managed to restore their memories while in the desert they did not have any memories of me. Miss Martian said it was because she only managed to initially restore the most recent memories, the ones before Bialya, which didn't include me because I was in Atlantis at the time, plus she was distracted by Superboy's mental shouts of pain – which I understand, I understand being distracted by your teammate, your friend being in pain, but I still do not understand the memories part. I do not understand why there were no memories of right before I left, of our mission before then, of any other missions with me in them. They said their memories were restored but if that were true then what happened to the ones with me in them?! Was there just a big hole? A random voice issuing orders to the Team? They forgot me, and before that it was like…Poseidon, it was like Tula and Garth forgot me too and just decided "hey we should get together and no we are not going to consider that this will affect our mutual best friend and turn her into a third wheel and maybe we should tell her about it."

They did not do that! Garth said that they tried to figure out a sympathetic way to tell me but that doesn't change the fact that they didn't do it! They basically forgot me, like the Team.

That is probably completely unfair of me.

Roy has not contacted me lately either, beyond asking for the use of the League's database.

I had a bit of a meltdown in front of Batman as well. When I woke up after Bialya, when we were back at the Cave, I lost it. I cried in front of him. It was humiliating. Helpful, in retrospect, but humiliating.

My Team forgot me, my best friends ignored if not outright forgot me, my love life just got demolished, Roy seems to have cut off all strings to me besides my access to the League's computer system, I have nightmares about the sun and drowning in heat, the Purists are gaining ground, I broke in front of my Team's General, I'm losing my ability to lead the Team – just look at our last few disastrous missions – I have not spoken to Aquaman or Anassa since our most recent brief visit when the Purists attacked which is frustrating, and I am just so sick of it. I want it to all go away. I want to sit in my closet, in the dark, and just not have to deal with it all. Obviously, that is not an option though. I must lead the Team. That is my job, the position given to me by the Team.

I should go. I need to monitor the situation in Taipei. Roy is on a mission and I am worried he may not be thinking clearly.

Love,

Your daughter

oOoOo

**Sender: **sla_jc  
**Date: **Tues, 7 September 2010 08:52:46 -0300  
**From: **Sha'lain'a D  
**Organization: **Angelia Graphikos  
**To: **aqualass.k**  
****Subject: Re: **An explanation

Baby girl,

Your patera and I are sending you hugs and kisses.

You need to come visit again sweetheart. And if you can't come then I'll come to you. Have you told anyone on the surface how you feel right now? Maybe Batman? You should do that Rini; they can help take some of this pressure off you. That's their job, as mentors and it doesn't matter that they're not your official mentor. They're mentors, it's their damn job to help ALL of you.

I swear, you say the word and I'll be up there in an instant. I'll hug so tightly you'll start complaining. Then we'll go to the crappiest little diner we can find and order their greasiest food. We'll see a movie and laugh at the fight choreography, and then we'll spar because you love our spars, and then we'll lie on the beach staring up at the stars and I'll tell you their stories all over again and you'll correct me because we both know I make them up.

Love you Rini, sending you hugs and kisses,

-Matim

Princess,

I promise this will make sense.

When you were kidnapped, I wanted to find Manta and kill him myself. But whenever I was alone I started getting these feelings of inadequacy. It's my job to protect you, that's what a parent is supposed to do for their kid – biological or not. I know, you can protect yourself, but that doesn't mean the protective feelings just go away. You were taken, and I couldn't stop it. It was a coin toss when I was alone as to whether I'd want to punch someone or get someone to punch me. I know it was similar for your matim. The feelings only really came to a calm when I was with your matim. Just being around her was enough to lift my feelings, to make me more hopeful, to make me less prone to illogical decisions that would have, if enacted, probably gotten you killed.

The point is that having the people you love around you helps. By all means, be alone for a bit, I know you like to sort through your thoughts by yourself. But don't hole yourself up in your bedroom, or closet, alone.

Engage with people. Be around the people you love. Come back to Shayeris, visit your matim and I. Go visit Poseidonis again, meet with Orin, be around Lori, hang out with Topo and La'gaan – it would make their day I'm sure. Call Roy. Shove yourself in that mission of his. You don't have to tell them anything if you don't want to, but it would probably help you to be around them instead of sitting in your bedroom by yourself.

I know, your old patera knows nothing of the trials of 16-year-old girl, but keep it in mind.

Love you Princess,

Patera

oOoOo

I close my eyes and just try to focus on nothing but the fact that my parents had sent an immediate response to my undoubtedly nonsensical email and it was filled with, well, _them_.

I do not think I can take their advice though. Matim wants me to speak to Batman, which I cannot do, especially not now. He has to mentor Robin as well, I should not be added to that list just because my mentor is much more busy and has greater responsibilities than simply me. She also wants me to either visit Shayeris or get her to visit the surface. I cannot do that, not now. I have visited Atlantis plenty in the past couple of weeks and need to ensure that I can remain focused on the Team rather than Atlantean issues. I do not want to interrupt her work with the shop either, as I know that takes up a lot of her time and she…I just do not want her to see me like this. Although, I would not complain about a hug.

Then Patera…I did not realize that he thought I thought that about him. I do, at times, but...I still respect him. He is right of my opinion of his advice right now though. He does not know the situation I am in. I cannot just interrupt Roy. I cannot just jump into his mission. He would take it as the League interfering and it would just add another piece of space between us, in addition to the spaces that developed thanks to Green Arrow taking on a new protégé and that protégé becoming a part of the Team – though I of course do not blame Artemis for any of this – and the still healing space that developed thanks to what created this Team in the first place! I do not wish to "hang out" with the Team or my Atlantean friends either. The Team forgot me, literally, even after supposedly having their memories restored. Before that my closest friends, Garth and Tula, ignored me completely! I was gone for two months, yes, but they did not even email me to say that they were together! I thought that was information that friends were supposed to tell their friends!

Apparently not.

Besides, I cannot try to be around my Atlantean friends because to go to Atlantis again in such a short span of time will just increase the likelihood of me losing my focus on the Team.

Am I being unfair to the Team? I have not yet read any of their reports for Batman yet, which I have been given permission to read, so I may be misinterpreting Miss Martian's explanation of the telepathic…forgetting…but…

Ugh. I am probably being unfair to Garth and Tula as well. They clearly hold some affection for one another beyond friendship and I should be happy for them - I am - but...

I loathe this month.

* * *

**Taipei, Taiwan : September 8, 2010 – 01:06 NST**

"_Aqualass."_

_::: It's me, ::: says Roy. He sounds tired. ::: I may, possibly, be in over my head. :::_

"_I'll be there."_

I swear I almost cheered when Roy requested my help. Not wishing to alarm him though, I school my face into an expression of calm before I enter the zeta-tube.

"Is there a reason you aren't in uniform?" Red Arrow asks as I step out of the zeta-tube.

I look down at myself in a blazer with sleeves long enough to hide most of the ends of my channels over a turtle-necked black dress that went down to my upper thighs with a collar I could undo at any point to free my gills. I'm carrying my heels with me and my purse is a version of my water-pack, with my water-bearers inside amongst the water.

"I am wearing my shorts uniform underneath," I explain, "and you said that I am the trump card here. Since getting in as a reporter is hardly going to work with the security there, and Cheshire will spot me if I try to get permission to get in any other way, I am getting in with what else I have."

"Which is?"

"Through the women's washroom from which I will pretend I _belong_."

"You just want to infiltrate someplace."

"Actually, I wished to wear a dress," I correct. It makes me feel pretty and I could use any form of positivity right now so I am wearing it. "You saw the security. You think they will let me in as a reporter?"

"You can pass as old enough."

I snort, "Perhaps, but I need a pass and reporter friends in addition to being legal."

"Couldn't you get in as an Atlantean? Rep of the King or something?"

I almost start laughing. Poseidon, I almost start _laughing. _Patera was right.

"No," I shake my head. "There is no way. Atlantis here will simply be seen as an attempt for an outside nation's interference. North and South Rhelasia already are not particularly fond of how much power Atlantis has in the international sphere. I would prefer to remain seen as only Aqualass, not as an emissary of the King."

He glances at my shoes hanging from my hands, "You're gonna wear heels?"

They also make me feel pretty.

"I like them and I can kick them off if I need to." I follow his gaze to my legs, "The scars are from an attack on Atlantis by Black Manta. There was an explosion, which meant boiling water, which managed to burn me. They're all minor and with continued attention the scars should be mostly gone soon." I raise an eyebrow, "Shall we?"

He nods and uses his grappling arrow to propel himself onto the rooftop. I follow with a leap.

Within the first hour of the negotiations – lots of shouting – I am glad that I slept a bit at Mount Justice. I would have fallen asleep otherwise. Why does no one, when one is attempting to enter the world of the superheroes, highlight the fact that you will no longer sleep as an inherent danger of the job?

::: Got her, like you said, ::: says Roy.

I turn holding out my water-bearers to face Cheshire dressed as a traditional Rhelasian tea server, as I had suspected she would do, "That is far enough, Cheshire."

Her eyes widen minutely and she takes a step back, bringing the cart with her. I start gathering up the water from the various water glasses and my pack. She takes a step forward and shoves the cart towards me. I move my legs into a solid stance and bring the water forward, around, and down. Roy's arrow comes swooping in over my right shoulder and impacts with the cart in the same instant my water shield forms fully between the cart, myself, and everyone behind me.

I feel the explosion instantly.

It pounds at the water and rushes past in a hurtling wind. I can feel it tearing at my blazer, ripping it to shreds as it pushes me backwards, sliding on my heels, and threatens to tear at my dress beneath my blazer.

Just as quickly as it starts it ends and I'm left bent in half and panting with my blazer hanging off me in scraps and my heels resting in a puddle of water.

I straighten, kick off my heels, and pull the remnants of my blazer off, revealing my dress, though lacking the collar and with rips across my chest revealing the red of my uniform beneath. I tug the strap of my purse so that it is locked firmly in place on my back instead of hanging loose at my side, which would be quite dangerous.

The explosion took out two statues and the entire back window. I am rather impressed with myself. If I could have done that in Atlantis against Manta, that would have been fantastic. I suppose though, seeing as I had no warning of the explosion in Atlantis before it happened, that is asking a lot. I had a warning here.

I sense more than hear Roy land behind me and aim over my shoulder, "It's over Cheshire."

"You would think so," she says, miraculously unharmed besides a few scratches and bruises. Her outfit is barely even ripped. How did she manage that?

I hear the helicopter an instant before it rises to the level of the obliterated window. Sportsmaster and a team of masked and armed henchmen dart out of the helicopter. Some of the Rhelasian operatives dart forward to confront the henchmen.

"Take Sportsmaster, Cheshire's mine," demands Roy.

I really wanted to punch her too. I dart forward and flip over Cheshire as she croons, "Mmm, so territorial and only our third date."

_Classy._

I dart toward Sportsmaster as he takes out four Rhelasians. He dodges and manages to block my whipping maces. He retaliates with an attempt to stab me with one of his javelins. I dodge easily enough and step backward, glancing at Roy habitually.

"You called one of your little sidekick friends, but didn't you tell me they weren't in your League?" Cheshire mocks.

Roy said wha – "Oof!"

I hit the ground hard, thanks to Sportsmaster clotheslining me while I was distracted, and hastily clear my head. Why would I listen to her? She is a supervillain. Throwing people like us off is what she is, literally, paid to do.

I catch a glimpse of Sportsmaster flinging a spiked hammer at my face. I roll and the hammer sinks two inches into the ground right where my head had been. Sportsmaster pulls out a sabre as I snap to my feet and quickly block his jab with one of my shields. I dance around his attacks before getting far enough way from him to properly form two blades of my own.

He chuckles, "Not bad lass, better than your Team did at Santa Prisca, or Bialya."

My eyes widen, "How did you-"

"Let's just say I have an inside source, _very_ inside."

An inside…a mole? Fuck. I hope that comment was like Cheshire's comments and meaningless.

"Aqualass," calls Roy, "let's end this!"

My eyes flick up as one of his arrows impacts with one of the sprinklers in the ceiling. I let my blades go as the water begins to spray from the sprinklers. I focus my attention on the sprinkler water and increase the flow, popping the sprinkler heads off and gathering the water around me. The water twists, coming together in a synchronized dance of rushing liquid to form an immense serpent that roars as it twists through the room, taking out henchmen as it closes in on Sportsmaster.

Cheshire hops down in front of Sportsmaster, puts on her mask, and throws a smoke grenade into my creation. I feel myself lose my grasp on the water as the explosion ricochets inside it and erupts into smoke that coats the room. I start to cough thanks to the smoke and form a shield and blade in case Sportsmaster or Cheshire opts to attack us while the smoke distracts us.

"Hi-yah!"

Roy and I turn sharply, him notching an arrow and me sending a whip hurtling towards the assassin that managed to escape the serpent and leap through the smoke towards the dignitaries. The forearm of Lex Luthor's bodyguard separates, revealing the barrel of a gun, and she shoots the assassin with a pulse of energy. Roy and I turn back to the rest of the room as the smoke clears. Everyone is gone. Of course.

I glance back at Luthor's bodyguard, Mercy, and watch as the Rhelasian dignitaries thank Luthor for saving their lives – not Mercy, or even Roy and I.

"They owe _him_ their lives?" Roy repeats, looking back at me. I cross my arms, equally unimpressed.

We remain for the rest of the summit in uniform.

Roy comments as we watch the dignitaries sign a treaty on either side of Lex Luthor, "I can't believe we just did a solid for Lex Luthor."

"Not for Luthor," I correct, turning and heading out of the building. "For peace. Beyond that, if Ra's and the League of Shadows wanted to sabotage the summit, the signing of the treaty renders their contract moot. It's over."

"Is it?" he asks as we pause by the fountain outside. "I heard what Sportsmaster said. Do you really think there's a mole on your team, feeding him intel?"

I frown, "I cannot rule out the possibility. I will investigate, quietly."

"Not tell them?"

"I do not want the unit unravelling under baseless suspicions," I explain, silently wishing that this month had not grown worse. "And if there_ is_ a mole, I have no wish to tip him or her off."

That would be an unnecessary amount of stress. I would like to avoid stress currently while I continue to recover from Bialya, Atlantis and Tula. I hate this month.

"Good luck with that," he smirks, mock-saluting me. He turns, intent on leaving.

I step forward, "One moment. Tonight, you could have called Green Arrow for help, or the Justice League. Instead, your first instinct was to call the Cave."

"You're right," he says, turning. "The Team deserves, has, my respect. I'm still getting used to this solo act stuff but if you need me, I'll be there."

Now why could he not have said that before Bialya? If I had heard that then I may not have wound up sobbing in front of, of all people, Batman! I still hate this month.

I exhale heavily and nod, "I appreciate that. Would you like to get some food?"

He looks at me for a moment, surprised, then smiles, "Sure."

* * *

**Star City, California : September 7, 2010 – 10:56 PDT**

We wind up back in Star City sitting on a roof of an office building eating fast food masquerading as something healthy. I am distracted by what is occurring below us though.

Across the street there is a beach. I have spent the past ten minutes watching a couple on the beach being adorable. There are linked, swinging hands. Laughing with quick little kisses snuck when the other partner is not looking. They are in their own little world, where only they exist.

I bite my lower lip and duck my head, feigning scratching an itch on my nose when in actuality I am wiping at my eyes. Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry. You have cried enough. Do not cry.

"You haven't touched your food in ten minutes," Roy comments abruptly.

I blink quickly and look back up to flash a forced smile at Roy, "My apologies. It appears I am not as hungry as I thought I was. You may have it if you wish."

I turn back to the beach and feign another scratch.

"Whoa, hey."

I hear the rustling of the paper around his breakfast sandwich and then his hand swiftly grabs my wrist and pulls it away from my face. I freeze, determinedly do not look at him, and instead focus on the couple on the beach. I can sense Roy staring at me.

"Are you crying?"

"No," I say, entirely unconvincingly because there was a whimper in there somewhere. I heard it.

"Fuck," he says, moving closer to me, still holding my wrist, "what – why are you – did I say something stupid?"

I pull my knees up to my chest as a smile forces it way onto my face and a half-chuckle half-whimper escapes my mouth, "No, no, you did not…it is not your fault. It is not…" I wipe my eyes with my free hand, "not anybody's fault. I – I am simply stressed."

"Okay, about what?"

I swallow, "I do not wish to burden you with my tr-"

"Fuck, Kalla." He grips my shoulder, "Friends swear at each other about things that stress them out. Hell, I know I do it enough."

I exhale heavily, staring at the couple on the beach. I question softly, "Have you ever loved someone? Someone who did not love you as you loved them? And would never love you as you loved them?"

Roy nods. He moves his hand down from my shoulder to rub my back. "This about Atlantis?"

I nod, "I told you of Tula."

"She's straight?"

"Yes, which I suspected, and she currently is with Garth."

He raises an eyebrow, "Your best friends got together while you were gone?"

"Yes," I confirm, ducking my head back down to my knees.

"Fucking assholes."

"Roy!" I jerk my head up sharply and shoot a disapproving glare at him.

He holds up his hands, as if innocent, "What?! You were thinking it."

"_Roy._"

"Sorry," he apologizes, sitting beside me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

I cringe and clench my eyes shut, "Immediately after that, we had a mission in Bialya."

"Bialya? What happened? The place is a desert, not exactly your Dream Destination."

"I…" I sigh, "I nearly died."

He shouts, _"What?!"_

Quickly, I explain, "A combination of events led to the team being split up, our memories blocked six months back, and I collapsed in the desert."

He moves closer to me and grips my shoulders tightly, "You didn't think to call me?"

"Using my com-link would have made people attack me," I explain, "so I did not use it. It was Bialya. You know the situation there."

"I should've been there."

I shake my head, "It was not your mission."

"At least to help you," he argues.

"You did not know."

"And now this mole shit…fuck, you've been having a crappy time."

I wrap my arms around my legs tightly and stare at the sea. After a long moment I whisper, "It was terrifying. If it was not for the Team finally remembering me I do not believe that I would be here." My eyes widen and I turn sharply to look at Roy, "You would have been alone when taking on Cheshire and Sportsmaster."

He frowns, "Fuck peace. I'd be looking for you."

Oh.

I lean over, resting my head on his shoulder and add, "I am sorry, my friend, for…" I wave my hand vaguely to myself, "this."

Roy tightens his arm over my shoulders and his thumb rubs circles around my bicep, "You don't talk to the Team much do you?"

I shake my head against his shoulder, "I am their leader. I cannot burden them with my thoughts. Besides, I am usually acting as their therapist and…secondary mentor, I suppose."

"Don't you have any help?" he asks. "I know Aquaman won't be much help, guy's so busy, but what about Batman, Tornado and Canary? I mean, you can handle a lot, you're the toughest person I know, but you're still…you're the same age as they are and you have other stuff to deal with too."

"Red Tornado is studying Earth still," I answer, swallowing. "Black Canary I rarely see beyond our combat training lessons. Batman, I do not know about. Perhaps he will help in the future, I do not know. I appreciate this though." I turn my head to smile at him, "This helps."

"Good, because I have no idea what I'm doing."

I snort and look back to the ocean. The ocean makes me sombre immediately.

"The Purists are gaining power," I say softly, staring at the water. "If it grows worse," I sigh, "I fear for my friends."

"They're tough. They'll be fine."

"I hope so."

"I say so."

I smirk, "And I suppose what you say is always true."

"Obviously," he quips.

I laugh.

* * *

**A/N: **The second part! Where people are awesome and Kalla is working on wrapping her head around everything that's happened.

Also where I swear at timestamps b/c there are virtually none for the events in Taipei and if I'm working off the idea that the time during the Happy Harbor cuts – which I can guess fairly easy because it's a school day – are occurring the same time as the Taipei cuts (just with the alterations made for the time zone differences) then I can make assumptions. Those assumptions, however, lead to the conclusion that superheroes do not require sleep. At all.

I think the quote for this chapter is my favourite quote thus far.

The school semester in RL has started so updates will be a lot slower, fyi.

**R&R**


	26. Sha'lain'a 6

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, and Kung Fu Hustle, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, discrimination via Purists, allusion to child abuse**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Sha'lain'a**

"_The foremost art of kings is the power to endure hatred."_

Seneca

* * *

**6**

**Shayeris, Atlantis : August 11, 2010 – 10:36 UTC-03**

Calvin is perched behind the shop's counter and looking through the intel on the hard drive we had gotten from the Dashti incident. He succeeded in decrypting most of it; thanks mostly to the training David put him through after recognizing his affinity for computers. Since getting out Calvin has been keeping up with the advancements in technology and the changing society of the tech giants, coders and hackers. Besides helping out with the shop he's done some freelance computer work for a few local places.

He took on some extra work when Kalla was starting her military training, because while the bulk of it was paid for by the city-state there were some excess costs necessary due to her physiology. The development of her water-bearers, which allowed her to later on keep up a little better in the practical study of sorcery, was costly and unfortunately not something covered by the city-state. The additional medical check-ups she had to go through to be deemed strong enough to even be trained, much less advance, were covered thank goodness.

Taxes are getting worse, unfortunately. They were already decent, when one considers that they pay for our healthcare, military training, sorcery education and such, but both Calvin and I keep our eyes on the studies done that focus on taxes across Atlantis. They vary, of course. Tritonis, after the issue with the Sirens, may be growing but remains in a fiscally unfortunate place and could not afford the taxes those in Poseidonis pay. But there is a trend that favours the Pure Atlanteans, not only in taxes but also in simply getting jobs or being accepted into a number of advanced academic institutions.

Growing up, I never paid much attention to the financial differences between the Pure Atlanteans and Impure, and the Kordax Cursed Atlanteans and not. That is, I did not pay attention beyond the obvious fact that the wealthiest Atlanteans were Pure and, usually, not blonde. It became pretty obvious though when I was trying to get the shop started that the financial differences were some of the most crippling leftovers from the old systems of taxation and employment. They remain entrenched in Atlantis and resulted in my having to swim through more hoops than I otherwise would have if I was Pure or not blonde. I forged more documents trying to get this shop started than I ever forged at any other time.

Thankfully, all existence of Kor'dia'ax was effectively erased by my birth family out of their shame of being related to a Cursed One. A birth certificate for Sha'lain'a was simple to create, as were the death certificates for her parents, and all evidence of her education on the surface – something rare but not unheard of in Atlantis, and because of its rarity it was significantly more difficult to verify.

It was easy. I had learned the systems that governed Atlantis through years of observation and being thrown through the teeth of it. Once you knew those systems they were simple enough to exploit.

It was not until Kalladura'ham became Aqualass that anyone seriously confronted me with suspicions of my less-than-legal method of getting my shop started. Orin, naturally, was the one to confront me. He was sympathetic though, which led to him quietly providing me with legitimate documents that proved my existence as Sha'lain'a and triple-confirmed my right to own and operate my shop. Calvin knows of that exchange, but Kalla does not. I have no intentions on sharing the details of my more recent criminal activity with her. It would put her in an awkward position. She knows, broadly speaking, of my teenage years of crime, with David omitted of course, but all of those years were expunged on Orin's word during the same exchange that made me legally exist as Sha'lain'a of Shayeris.

I seem to have developed a pattern of exploiting the system. That is not surprising in the least.

"Might have something here," Calvin says, pulling me out of my musing as I reorganize a set of anklets.

"What is it?" I ask, moving to look over his shoulder.

"It's a collection of files on the League of Shadows-"

My eyebrows shoot up, "What?"

"You remember them?" he asks, glancing back at me.

"Of course," I nod, "David mentioned them once or twice, as did Gina. She seems to greatly dislike their leader, claims he 'took the easy way' in becoming immortal."

"These don't mention Gina or David. They do mention Cliff Caulder quite a bit though."

"The only Caulder that Kalla knew of was Niles Caulder."

"He doesn't have any brothers and I doubt someone who names their kid 'Niles' will name their other one 'Cliff'."

"It's possible."

"Doesn't have any cousins that I could find," Calvin adds. "Trying to follow the email trail got me nowhere. I have no idea, Sha'lain. You think there are more of those creatures Gina and Sean saw?"

"It's likely," I nod. "There was a team of them there, and Gina said they seemed to have gone through training of some sort. They could have a society we just don't know anything about yet."

"They must know English, or at least have a way to translate languages into one they understand," Calvin says, "that's the only way they'd be able to get enough information on the Doctor to justify targeting him. They could be using this name as an alias."

"Why though? It seems like an unnecessary amount of effort to get him to work with them through this Caulder name, then just kill him."

"He must have been doing something they didn't like, so they figured killing him was the way to get rid of the problem."

"I can understand that, but then what was he doing that he was so uncomfortable about?"

"Something with the League of Shadows, apparently," says Calvin. "I still have no idea what nanorobotics, gene transfer therapy, neurobiology, and magic have in common though."

"They're all disciplines that you need to study in-depth?"

"That's true of virtually everything though."

"I know," I sigh.

"Dashti wouldn't talk to you guys at all?"

"He would not say anything, not even to Sean. I even asked his wife and she didn't know anything. Whoever his enemies are must have threatened his family if he talked about anything."

"Or he thinks they did. Is he being protected?"

"He is reluctant to get anyone else involved. Sean and Gina are trying though, and Chevy sent two of her senior wolves down there to do some investigative work without the Doctor knowing. They are leaving the tech stuff to us though."

Calvin sighs, "I'm not sure Atlantean tech will be much help here."

"I did not think so."

_Ring!_

We look up to see a young Atlantean swimming into the shop. She's short, lacks any visible underwater adaptations, has her dark hair pulled back into a collection of braids which, when paired with her almond shaped brown eyes and light brown skin, makes me think of the natives of the area around Kolpos.

"Coci, it's 11 already?" I exclaim, darting forward.

The 20-year-old nods, looking alarmed. She fidgets with the blue wrap around her hips, straining the thin scars on her hands. Quickly, I get her settled at the front of the shop amidst the hair accessories.

She's a new hire. I had another employee have to leave, making the huge decision to leave Shayeris completely and go further north. Since the Gulf incident though I've been getting a number of displaced Gulf residents searching for jobs and I've managed to justify hiring two. Coci being the younger one who managed to get out of the spill area before getting hurt but wound up losing her job anyway. She said she had opted to not go with the other refugees to the city-states closer to Kolpos and instead went further, eventually winding up in Shayeris staying in one of its common homes and paying the owner with the jewellery she was wearing during the spill. She claimed that every other place she tried turned her down, but I have a difficult time believing that. A number of Shayeris residents have left, frightened by the influx of infection by the Kolpos and area refugees and the still not entirely collected oil spreading our way. There are jobs available so I do not know what she was doing until she applied here.

She was, like most Atlanteans, militarily trained, but left the military after her required years of service. She trained at the Conservatory of Sorcery as well and had managed to impress me with her knowledge of jewel charms so, seeing as I was short-staffed, I hired her.

There's something off about her though. Something I cannot pin down. As long as I can observe her in action though I figure that my anxiety about the oddness of her will wear off. If it does not then there is something genuinely odd about her that may or may not be a good thing.

With Aqualass as my daughter, and with my past and Calvin's past what it is, I can never be too careful.

Coci seems to sense my trepidation.

**August 16, 2010 – 18:16 UTC-03**

"He's working for the government?" Coci asks after seeing a customer to the door.

"Ah, yes, Calvin is using his technical skills to test the security of the systems the city-states' leaders use," I confirm.

Coci raises an eyebrow, "You mean he's trying to hack into King Arnis' computer?"

"Essentially."

"Impressive," she comments. "Has he done a lot of that type of work?"

"A bit," I say evasively, not wishing to comment on the similar work he did for David.

"Honestly, I would have pegged him as more of a poet-warrior type," Coci says, fixing a display of hair ornaments, "not a techie."

"A poet-warrior," I repeat. "I suppose that is an apt description as well. Why do you think so?"

"He has a scar on his arm," she explains, dragging her fingers up her left triceps and to her back, "it goes to his back, where I cannot see it anymore, but it is there. I do not think you get a scar like that by sitting behind a computer." She adds after a moment, nodding to me, "You have a few scars too. I doubt you got them from this shop."

"You are young. Most young people fail to realize that those older than them did have lives before them."

"Was it a bad mission?"

"I am not fond of the military."

Coci frowns, "Was it a bad mission for Calvin? An incident on the surface-world?"

"I would prefer to not speak of it."

She looks at me for a long moment then nods, "My apologies."

"It is well."

It turns out that it is not. The next day while we were making some protection necklaces she asks about how I learned how to make the charmed jewellery in the shop. I told her that I was self-taught, which is mostly true, and she comments on the fact that my sorcery is different from that of other Atlanteans she knows, drier. I attribute that to being self-taught.

It is alarming though, because while I was dominantly self-taught, people such as Joa on the surface-world also taught me. The methods for sorcery on the surface-world are different than those in Atlantis. I am both impressed that Coci caught them and alarmed because how does she even know the methods of surface-world sorcery? According ot her she has never been to the surface-world so how would hse know what their sorcery is like? That sort of information is rarely readily available in Atlantis even online, and it is far from something respectable to study.

Something is off. She asks too many questions.

**August 18, 2010 – 08:56 UTC-03**

"Poseidonis," the Atlantean with the pale blue scales answers.

I beam, "Poseidonis is such a beautiful city-state. It is no wonder that you lived there."

"You have been?" he asks, his blue eyes widening as his pale blue eyebrows rise.

"Quite often," I confirm, gesturing to the mosaic of Aqualass on the wall behind the counter.

"Ah, yes, Aqualass is there quite often," he says. "Many of her supporters visit Poseidonis, hoping to catch a sight of her or speak to her."

"I do visit to support her," I smile, realizing that he has no idea that I am half of the reason for Aqualass' existence. "Usually, she is happy to see me."

"You must be close."

"Raising someone generally has that effect, in one way or another."

He blinks. He raises his eyebrows, "I am afraid I…you raised her?" I just look at him and, after a moment, he exclaims, "You are Aqualass' matim?"

"Yes," I confirm. "And if you wish for me to confirm that my daughter would approve of your choice of armbands for your husband, I can do so."

"Celebrity endorsement?"

"She suggested it."

"Smart girl. That will not be necessary, but thank-you," he says, handing the armbands over the counter to me.

"You are very welcome."

"It would be nice if Aqualass were in Poseidonis now," he says forlornly, looking past me to the mosaic of my daughter in uniform.

I frown as I finish wrapping the armbands, "What do you mean?"

"We lived near the Conservatory," he explains, handing me his payment. "We moved because of some incidents occurring at the Conservatory."

"Incidents?"

He hesitates, looking around carefully. He leans forward, seeming to accept that no one in the room will object to what he says, and explains, "There have been attacks by the Purists. A Conservatory student was assaulted by them last week, he had an old slur against the so-called Impure carved into his back. He left shortly after. The Conservatory and Monarchy is keeping the incident quiet, but I was a regular guest speaker at the Conservatory and I knew the boy reasonably well. It happened, but no one wishes to speak of it."

"Surely Annex and Anassa are-"

"They are Pure," he points out. "They are Pure and they are supported by other Pure Atlanteans. Atlanteans such as A'estus, whom are suspected of being supporters of the Purists if not active Purists themselves, support their rule. While Annex Orin and Anassa Mera clearly see the value of Atlanteans such as yourself or myself, with the appointment of your daughter as Aqualass, who is to say that they were not forced into accepting her after the Pure candidate for his protégé declined the offer? Beyond that, acting against the Purists would make their Pure supporters furious."

"Kalladura'ham was made Aqualass because she had the ability and potential, not because she was a second choice and they had to make her Aquaman's protégé."

"Apologies, I did not intend to insult your daughter's skills," he says quickly. "Regardless, my family could not remain there, not with the Purists still controlling Poseidonis."

"I hope that giving this gift will help improve your day."

He smiles, taking the wrapped armbands, "I think so. Thank-you."

As soon as he leaves I sit down.

Shit.

If Purists are attacking Impure Conservatory students then Kalla's friends will be in danger. Tula and Garth will be fine, but Lori, Blubber, King Sha'ark, and her two adorable little fans, La'gaan and Topo, will be targeted. This is bad. This is really bad.

Orin and Mera did object to this violent discrimination. They had to. Have to. Keeping it quiet, I can understand that, they do not want Poseidonis or the Conservatory to explode with fear and fury, but not objecting completely is highly unlikely.

"What's wrong?" asks Calvin as he enters the main room.

"The Purists are apparently growing violent in Poseidonis," I answer. "A boy from the Conservatory was attacked, had a slur carved across his back by the Purists."

Calvin's eyes widen, "What is Orin doing?"

"I do not know," I say, raising my hands up in frustration. "I only heard of the incident from an Atlantean who just moved here from Poseidonis to get away from the Purists. The incident happened last week. I should have heard of it by now. The media should have told a story, or it should have gotten to Kalla by now, but it seems as though the incident is being kept quiet."

Calvin frowns.

"Which makes sense," I continue. "If the citizens of Poseidonis knew of the attack then the Impure would be terrified of leaving their homes, parents would be pulling their children out of the Conservatory in an instant, and all of the Purist supporters would be emerging, gleeful."

"Maybe," Calvin says. "What are the Purists doing? They've been violent before, but it's always been in, well, less powerful city-states, like Shayeris back before Kalla became Aqualass and it gained some more political clout, and Lemuria and Crastinus, and now Kolpos. They've never had the numbers or the organization to be active through violence in Poseidonis."

"They can do it in Nai'ada."

"That's just because their leader is a closet Purist and Orin can't afford to kick her out of power. Not with her connection to Klymene & Tethys and her involvement in the Northwest Passage debate."

"Fuck the Northwest Passage," I snap. "The Purists just attacked a child and no one knows about it! They are gaining a ton of power if they have the gall to do that in the first place, and that cannot happen."

"I know," Calvin nods. After a moment, he asks, "What are you going to do?"

"I know a few Purists."

"You're going to see them?"

"I need to find out what's happening in Poseidonis. How the Purists have the organization to do this without being publically known."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"I will get Coci to come in today, she can deal with the shop today with Anima," I nod to the front of the room where one of my older hires is hovering, helping a woman pick out a bracelet for her daughter's seventeenth birthday.

"I can come with you."

"No. I will be fine by myself. I need you to stay here tonight though, look after everything," I request, beginning to pull my hair back into a thick braid.

He nods, "Okay. Call me when you get there." He kisses me lightly.

I smile as he pulls away, "Of course."

* * *

**Lemuria, Atlantis : August 18, 2010 – 11:19 UTC-02**

His eyes are still sharp and mean. Dark brown pools that scan the waters when he swims for an early lunch out of the Lemuria offices for Angelia Graphikos. The starburst scar on his forearm is faded slightly, but not much, and is joined by new scars on his knuckles. The man with him I recognize just as well.

The man is an Atlantean that appears Pure. His violet eyes, set against a light ochre complexion, are two of the meanest eyes I have ever known. He has a belly now and there are scars on his knuckles from broken skin – his skin and others, I have no doubt. Instinctively, my hand brushes across one of the scars on my hips.

'_your patera said I could'_

The memories mock me. I shut them down just as quickly as they rise up and I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from attacking both of the men then and there.

I remember violet eyes, big hands, and teeth that once-upon-a-time were sharp as a shark's. My childhood self did not realize that he had later filed his teeth down in an attempt to pass as Pure. The pointed teeth were the only visible suggestion of his "impurity" and now, I realize, he must have loathed them.

The two Atlanteans are old friends of one another. One who wanted to pass as Pure and the other who couldn't pass but always attached himself to those who were, to those in power. I still do not know if he did it in a ploy of 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' or if he truly believed in what the powerful preached.

I follow the two into a small café with no one inside except the employees and a small family, where they sit at a table with their respective dishes. I order a snack, sushi how sushi is supposed to be made, not that silly surface-world stuff, and tell the woman behind the counter to get out of the café. I pause by the table with the small family and prompt them to leave as well. Finally, with the small family heading out of the café, looking alarmed, I take the third chair at the table of the two employees of Angelia Graphikos. They look at me, at the charmed belt at my waist with hesitant recognition. A frown crosses the face of Violet Eyes and confusion crosses the face of Brown Eyes.

"Hello Patera," I greet, fighting back the urge to escape and the equally as powerful urge to punch them both until their blood stains the water and they cease moving.

Recognition crosses the face of Brown Eyes – Patera – as his eyes flick to my charmed belt. He snarls, "_You._"

His hand snaps out to my throat. I grab his wrist instead and shoot up to twist it behind his back and slam his head against his dish, cracking the dish beneath his face.

"You-"

I throw Brown Eyes back to the floor and kick the table up, sending it crashing into Violet Eyes.

"Both of you are going to listen to me," I order, pressing my foot to the throat of Brown Eyes while I form a water-mace and hold it out to Violet Eyes. "You are going to answer my questions and when I am done you will leave here like none of this ever happened. Tell anyone of this, and I will end both of you."

"You Impure little-"

"You don't remember me, do you?" I taunt, glaring at Violet Eyes. "I will give you a hint: _'__Your patera said I could'_."

He frowns, "What in the name of Poseidon are you talking ab-"

"Kor-" Brown Eyes coughs. "She is Kor'dia'ax."

"Your demon spawn?" Violet Eyes gapes, looking back at me incredulously, appearing to be pale-skinned and brown-haired, far from the older version of the girl he once hurt.

"Kor'dia'ax has been reincarnated and is rather annoyed by the Purist attacks in Poseidonis," I state. "I know you both are with the Purists," I point down to Brown Eyes – Patera, horrible, awful Patera – "though you are on the fringes and you," I point to Violet Eyes – D'unar – "are low in their ranks, but you are both with them. You know something about the attacks."

"And you think that threatening us will make us tell you anything?" D'unar scoffs.

I kick Patera in the face, knocking him out.

"You are living up to your name, Kor'dia'ax, cursed one," D'unar taunts, unmoving. "It takes pure evil for a child to attack her own patera."

"When that patera did a terrible job at being one, then no, it does not take evil, it just takes guts, confidence, and a furious want to destroy everyone who tried to destroy you," I snap. I knee him in the gut. He buckles, gasping. I kick him in the back, sending him crashing to the floor. Apparently, he is only capable of defeating children, not a grown woman.

I kick him over then grab him by his collar and hiss, "And you are one of those people who tried to destroy me. I have no problem with destroying you as well."

"You will be imprisoned for assaulting an executive of Angelia Graph-"

His strangled explanation is cut off sharply as I slam him against the wall.

"D'unar," I hiss, leaning forward with my knuckles pressed against the soft flesh beneath his collar, "I have fucked one of the most dangerous men on the planet. I have made him buckle before me, _worship me_. I have given him a child who happens to be one of the most dangerous people on this planet, and I have succeeded in disappearing from him, from our so-called _Mighty_ Ruler, from the entire Justice League, when necessary. There is not a prison in existence that can hold me, and clearly death cannot contain me. You though…well, you are just a nightmare from my childhood. You are no more threatening to me than the water around us."

His face is turning purple.

I loosen my hold, "I suggest you tell me what I want to know."

Five minutes later I am swimming from the scene, removing the glamour charmed belt from my person that made me appear to be a pale brunette, and disappearing.

I must tell Kalla of this.

oOoOo

**Sender:**sla_jc  
**Date:**Wed, 18 August 2010 12:16:32 -0200  
**From:**Sha'lain'a D  
**Organization:**Angelia Graphikos  
**To:**anassa.m  
**Subject:**Were you aware of this?

Mera,

Something came up this morning that has me concerned.

A customer mentioned to me that there were some incidents at the Conservatory revolving around the Purists. A boy was attacked, had a slur against the so-called Impure carved across his back by Purists. Did you know of this?

I did not, so I questioned some people I know about it. They did not know much about that particular incident, but they did imply that some of the Purists were working for someone more powerful. I suspect Ocean Master. Ocean Master has always had a startling amount of access to some of the most heavily guarded areas in Atlantis and I suspect that due to that access the Purists are growing bolder. They have more than enough power now to become forces in Poseidonis and other powerful city-states.

Please, tell me you and Orin are doing something about this. This cannot continue. The Purists must be brought down, before they introduce a second Tritonis and rip a city-state to shreds as the Sirens did. Calvin and I are willing to help, but you must notify Kalla of this as well.

The apparent inaction of the Monarchy is beginning to be concerning. Someone needs to act, soon, and it should not be the Purists.

Stay well,

Sha'lain'a

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : September 6, 2010 – 07:26 UTC-03**

After Kalladura'ham leaves with M'gann and Conner I turn to Calvin and question, "What happened to her?"

"She may not be permitted to tell us."

"More likely she does not want us to worry," I sigh. "That girl…"

It is always for the same reason that Kalla does not tell us something. She does not want us to worry. She does not wish to put us in any danger. She is trying to protect us by keeping her mouth shut. It is frustrating. Calvin and I are her parents, we are supposed to protect her, and we are perfectly capable of defending ourselves against her enemies. I took down more than a few individuals attempting to hurt her when she was a child. Calvin survived being one of Manta's agents and then escaping. There is very little that we cannot handle and the fact that she continually refuses to tell us the things that bother her out of a concern for our well-being is, while sweet, also infuriating.

"I could sense her anxiety, Calvin," I say, my voice softening. "She was scared of something, or had been recently."

"Of what?"

"I do not know. A mission likely went wrong."

"But the other two didn't seem worried."

"Then it went wrong in such a way that only she was aware."

"You are grasping at straws, sweetheart."

"I might be. I will email her, ask for an explanation."

"Wait," Calvin advises. "Wait for a day, she might contact us herself."

I shoot him an incredulous look, "She hates starting email conversations."

"Just wait."

"You are likely right," I sigh. "Very well, I will wait, but only for a few hours."

When Kalla finally responds to my emails a day later I have to fight the urge to go to the surface-world, grab her, and pull her back to Shayeris where I can keep an eye on her and take out anyone who makes her feel less valuable. At the moment, those people are her Team, Tula and Garth, and the Purists.

"I was right, she is scared," I say when I see her email on my day off.

Calvin immediately comes to my side, foregoing heading immediately to work on improving King Arnis' computer system. He sits next to me on the bed and I hand the tablet to him to read the email. I lean over, rubbing my temples with my hands.

"She is being kicked while she is down," I say after a long moment, "and I just _know_ she's going to take the past events and just be alone with her mind fuelling her feelings of inadequacy."

"Lock herself in her room, again," Calvin says, remembering the time when Kalla first faced Ocean Master and after being released from the attention of the Healers went and somehow managed to lock herself inside the room she shared with Tula at the Conservatory. She blamed herself for the death of the soldier involved in the fight and did not know how to deal with that guilt. She has gotten better with that, but every-so-often the guilt or the feelings of inadequacy return and she gets quiet. Quiet and angry and sad. It's painful to watch, knowing that I cannot do anything to help her besides assure her that I love her.

It is one of the reasons for why I remain quietly sceptical of the League's decision to start training protégés barely in their teens – and in the case of Robin, not even a preteen when he began. The teenagers do not know how to deal with the issues that they face, the traumas. Their brains are not prepared for that. Throwing them into that world with nothing but a theoretical rope attached to their mentor seems like a bad idea, and it is left to those people closer to them than their mentors to pick up the pieces that should never have been chipped away in the first place.

I glance at the tablet and remark, "She will not listen to me if I tell her to call Roy and watch a film or something, or that Roy is likely not ignoring her he is just…doing what she does when she is frustrated, trying to stay away from people who can make her less frustrated."

"What if he is though? Ignoring her," prods Calvin.

I shake my head, "I do not believe that. He is her best surface-friend. She would give her life for him, and from what I have heard of him he would do the same. I do not think she realizes that, which makes sense. She just got hit by being forgotten or ignored by nearly all of her friends, the Purists telling her that she is worthless, and being helpless while in the middle of the desert. I would be surprised if her impression of her self-worth has not suffered. I do not think that right now she thinks she is worth much of anything to anyone beyond, perhaps, a good soldier." I can tell by Calvin's expression that he knows that feeling. I nod, "I know that feeling too."

He squeezes my hand. I return the gesture.

"We cannot go up there though," I remark. "She would just try to pretend that she is okay." I look up at him, "Do you want to type first or me?"

"Go ahead," he hands me the tablet.

I respond to Kalla's email first. Orin is second.

oOoOo

**Sender:**sla_jc  
**Date:**Thurs, 9 September 2010 18:23:16 -0300  
**From:**Sha'lain'a D  
**Organization:**Angelia Graphikos  
**To:**annex.o  
**Subject:**You must be joking

Orin,

I just found out about the attack on Orm and the capture of Mera.

What the hell? He is a child, I understand that, but what the hell do you hope to accomplish by _pardoning_ him?

Ronal and his fellow Purists attacked not only your brother and wife, but Kalladura'ham and her friends! That boy knew exactly what he was getting into when he joined the Purists. He knew he would be attacking the "Impure" and their allies. Pardoning him is just giving the Purists more room to act.

Sha'lain'a

oOoOo

**Sender:**annex.o  
**Date:**Fri, 10 September 2010 10:18:16 -0300  
**From:**Annex Orin  
**Organization:**The Atlantean Monarchy  
**To:**sla_jc  
**Subject: Re:**You must be joking

Sha'lain'a,

I apologize. I understand your problems with my decision, but it is my decision. My people and I are doing everything we can to hunt down those who dared to attack my brother and your daughter, and capture my wife, and deal with them appropriately.

There are many individuals at play here, and a balance must be struck.

Mera mentioned that you had questioned some individuals about the first attack. Did those individuals happen to be in Lemuria?

-O

oOoOo

**Sender:**sla_jc  
**Date:**Fri, 10 September 2010 17:02:19 -0300  
**From:**Sha'lain'a D  
**Organization:**Angelia Graphikos  
**To:**annex.o  
**Subject:**** Re: Re: **You must be joking

Orin,

That is unacceptable, Orin. "Striking a balance" is all well and good, but when "striking a balance" results in ignoring the crimes of Purists, of Atlanteans who have carved slurs into the flesh of others, then you need to look at that balance and seriously consider whether that balance is worth striking or not.

_Did those individuals happen to be in Lemuria?_

Yes. They were in Lemuria.

Sha'lain'a

oOoOo

**Sender:**annex.o  
**Date:**Sat, 11 September 2010 09:58:22 -0300  
**From:**Annex Orin  
**Organization:**The Atlantean Monarchy  
**To:**sla_jc  
**Subject: Re: Re: Re:**You must be joking

The balance is not a particularly good one; I know that, I am aware of that. But it is the only one at the moment able to be "struck."

My options are limited right now.

_Yes. They were in Lemuria._

You attacked two innocent Atlanteans. You must understand that I cannot overlook that.

-O

oOoOo

**Sender:**sla_jc  
**Date:**Sat, 11 September 2010 12:22:46 -0300  
**From:**Sha'lain'a D  
**Organization:**Angelia Graphikos  
**To:**annex.o  
**Subject:**** Re: Re: Re: Re: **You must be joking

Then make them less limited.

Atlantis may be on an edge right now, it may be thrown by these recent Purist attacks, but right now I am ashamed of the lack of what you and Mera have done. I do not know what Kalla thinks of this, but I am certain she is not impressed with how the monarchy is handling this situation.

The Purist group here just attacked a woman this morning. They managed to carve into her arm half of the word Topo had carved into his chest. Thankfully, some others got there and managed to get the Purists away from her before they finished the word. An incident like that has not happened since Kalla was a child!

This needs to stop, Orin. I refuse to watch another child have her or his finger broken by a group of Purists.

_You attacked two innocent Atlanteans._

Those two are not innocent. I confronted my Patera about his treatment of me, and I confronted the friend he gave permission to use me. I would do it again. Right now though, they have ins with the Purists and I will not let my hatred of them overcome the greater issue that is the Purists, of which I can learn more about and prepare for by having those two bigoted jackasses right where they currently are.

_You must understand that I cannot overlook that._

Then do not overlook it, but also do not try to protect them. They can protect themselves. I have the scars to prove it. I will happily testify against both of them, with the assurance that I will not be dragged over spikes and ripped to shreds because of the transgressions of Kor'dia'ax's youth.

Sha'lain'a

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : September 11, 2010 – 15:27 UTC-02**

The healing room is barren, but the woman who was attacked by Purists looks up as I enter and smiles. She sits up, handling her bandaged arm gingerly.

"Hello, Je'ria," I say, "I am Sha'lain'a."

"Your daughter looks like you," she says, a corner of her mouth twitching into a fond smile.

"Most do not connect me to her," I comment.

"You look similar, you and Aqualass - Kalla, I do not see why few would connect you to her."

"I suppose it is because she is usually in uniform and I tend to," I gesture down to my gauzy, flowing wrap skirt and the strip of fabric wound over my arms and clasped at my chest against my bandeau with one of my blue broaches, "well, wear less structured clothing. I am a little louder than her as well."

Je'ria smiles, "She is a teenager, uncertain at times I am sure. She will get louder."

"How is your daughter?" I question.

"My daughter, Ataxe, is worried for her matim," Je'ria responds, her smile not reaching her eyes. She glances down to her bandaged arm, "I will likely be permitted to leave tomorrow, once the healers are certain my gills," she gestures to the brace against her left gills, "can continue to support me. She is excited for that."

"They are not here now?"

"Her patera, Haxel, took her out earlier. She was growing anxious. She does not much like healing rooms, not since…since the oil."

My eyes flick to the faded dark stains mingling with the burn scars that twist across her hands.

"Understandable," I say. "I realize that you have likely been asked this many times but I was hoping you could tell me about the attack."

Je'ria tenses.

Her left eye is bruised, and matching dark purple blotches stretch around her throat in the shape of fingers. The brace against her left gills is an attempt to ensure the sliced gills heal properly and there is a similar brace on her left arm, against the bandages that cover the slur carved into her flesh. The fin on her left arm is effectively shredded thanks to the carving but once it heals some more thanks to the brace she may be able to get a prosthetic if adapting to only having a usable fin on her right arm proves to be more than a bit of a challenge. A less intensive brace is against her right arm fin, which looks to have been bent out of shape brutally in the same pattern as the bruises across her forearm shaped like a hand. Part of her right ear fin is missing, as is a chunk of her hair, and I am certain that she has new scars added to the collection of shrapnel ones all over her body.

She has every right to tense and refuse to answer.

"Is this to help your daughter, to help Aqualass, hunt them down?" Je'ria asks.

"No," I state. "It's to help me hunt them down."

Surprise crosses her face. She lowers her head, a smirk playing at her lips, "It is from you then that she got it," she lifts her head, "her warrior spirit and her refusal to stand by quietly when she knows she can do something to help those less fortunate than herself."

I do not respond.

Je'ria shakes her head, "I was attacked while returning…home from having picked up the medications my husband, Haxel, and Ataxe require."

"You are living here now?" I ask, sitting on the bed next to her.

"Temporarily, for now," she confirms. "The wounds our family has suffered due to the oil are…extensive. Ataxe and Haxel must be cared for, and that is where our funds must go."

"Do you remember anything of the attackers?"

"Pure, of course, the monsters," Je'ria spits. "There were four. Two held me down. One…" she shakes her head, trailing off.

I put a hand over hers. She grasps my hand tightly and continues, "T-Two held me down and another had her hand at my throat. I could not breathe. The last, he had the blade."

"Two men and two women or…"

"Yes, two men and two women. Pure and they wore crude robes."

"Crude?"

"They were not professionally made," Je'ria nods. "There were frayed edges."

"Self-made, perhaps?"

"Perhaps?"

"What were their complexions?"

"One had the same complexion as myself," she answers, staring down at her bandaged arm. "The rest were fairer. All had brown hair. I…I could not make out their features. My throat…"

"I understand. It's okay. This helps. Would you mind if I returned later, to visit?"

"I will help you as much as I can in ensuring those Purists do not hurt another as they hurt me," Je'ria promises.

I smile, "Thank-you."

* * *

**A/N: **In which Sha'lain'a will likely never be able to have a quiet life, and she doesn't particularly want one.

You have no idea how much I side-eyed the League during episode 17 when the therapy sessions were happening. Did it seriously not occur to them that this could be problematic? At least it occurred to Wonder Woman.

**R&R**


	27. Kalladura'ham 21

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 112: Homefront._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

_"Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark."_

Rabindranath Tagore

* * *

**21**

**Star City, California : September 7, 2010 – 18:29 PDT**

"This is a terrible show," I comment, staring at the television in horrid fascination. "This passes as entertainment here?"

"Thought your cousin would've watched shit like that," Roy comments, flipping the pancake.

"She has better taste. Why can I not look away?"

"Morbid fascination," he says as I rise, forcing myself to look away.

I glance at the pancake in the pan and cock an eyebrow, "I was under the impression that most people made pancakes that look like animals."

He stares at me blankly.

I explain, "My uncle makes pancakes that look like cartoon mice. My aunt makes them look like fish. My cousin…she has tried to make them look like the faces of people. That did not go over particularly well."

He just looks at me, "You don't get animal pancakes today."

"I will survive."

"Take your blueberry pancake," he says, plopping the pancake on my plate atop the pancake already there.

"I appreciate this, Roy, you did not have to-"

"Bullshit. You're my friend and you need food, Kalla. I'm an asshole, but I'm not that much of an asshole."

"I meant everything else, Roy, the listening and such, and you know it," I say as I sit at his coffee table to eat my pancakes.

He shrugs.

I eye the various post-secondary institution brochures and pamphlets scattered across the coffee table. I gesture to them as Roy plops down on the couch and kicks his feet onto the coffee table, "You are looking into furthering your education?"

He answers with another shrug.

"Do you know what you are you planning on pursuing yet?"

"No idea."

"Well," I say, picking up a brochure and flipping through it, it looks interesting, "you have time to decide if you are taking the year off."

"Could just do what you did, join the military."

"You would not enjoy it," I say promptly. "You have to follow orders to the letter and talking back to your superior officer is _severely_ discouraged."

He grunts around the pancake in his mouth.

"I also did not have a choice as to whether I could join the military or not. It is compulsory."

Abruptly, Roy stands. He sets his plate on the coffee table then moves to the kitchenette and rummages in a drawer for a moment. He straightens up and tosses a ring of keys onto the coffee table, "Kept on forgetting about this. Your set of keys."

"I get keys?" I question.

"Yeah, to this place and a few of my safe houses."

"Where are the others?"

"I'll show you tonight."

"I will be training with the Team."

"When you have free time then."

"Why do I get them?"

"Because you're here," Roy points out, "and I sure as hell am not giving Ollie my safe house keys. Least I know you have my back."

"He does as well."

"He didn't support me in going solo."

I fall silent. I hope he eventually tries to speak to Oliver, get past this issue. I don't like seeing him so resentful towards the man who is a large part of the reason for why he's here today. The resent is toxic and what it is doing to their relationship is jarring. Unnatural, even.

* * *

**Washington, D.C. : September 8, 2010 – 18:24 EDT**

With Roy beside me I stare across the street at the apartment building. It's a standard apartment building, much like the ones in the other cities Roy showed me. He seems to have a standard checklist for choosing safe houses and equipment caches. It needs to be in an area of the city that is populated by people who wouldn't really care if a guy used an apartment only once in a while so long as he paid the rent on time. It needs to have room for his equipment. It needs to be an outside apartment that's also up high so that he has easy roof access. It can't be too close to the stairwell or elevator. All of the windows and doors have to be working. There cannot be any nosy neighbours. Etcetera.

"Got the lay?" Roy asks, his vibrant hair covered by a ball-cap supporting a local sports team. He tends to attract attention, solely because of his hair, and that's the last thing he wants.

I, so long as my gills are covered and I keep my hands in my pockets, do not attract as much attention. Plus there's the advantage I have of spending most of my life trying not to be seen, which has developed to the point where blending into the background is now second nature. To stay unseen you remain unobtrusive. You keep your limbs close to your body, cross your legs if you have to. You have to be quiet and look completely normal, in this case that means casual clothing and shoes instead of sandals. I even bought a doughnut.

I push off the wall and comment, "This is similar to the last few places."

He shrugs, "I have standards."

We jog across the street and the man at the front desk of the apartment building looks up at our entrance. His gaze slides right over me and focuses on Roy, which tends to happen whenever I am trying to remain unnoticed. Roy has always tried to be noticed, screaming and shouting for attention, and that past plays against him when he tries to not be noticed. He can't change his instinctive want to have attention paid to him, to have people listen to him, and people notice that instinct. I tend to lean towards the opposite, except when I'm the one doing the leading. Hence why when the Team needs to blend in I try to not have to be the one interacting with civilians or the target because I'm still stuck in Leader Mode and breaking that to blend in has proven difficult to do.

We head into the rickety elevator and Roy jabs the button for the 14th floor. The elevator ascends shakily.

"Perhaps you should invest in a wig," I comment out of the side of my mouth.

He shoots a glare at me.

I press my lips together as they curve in amusement.

He rolls his eyes and pulls out a ring with a motley collection of keys on it. He holds up a silver key, "This is it."

I nod, memorizing the key's indentations. I have the same key ring, populated by copies of his originals.

The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors open none to confidently. I follow Roy to the equipment cache masquerading as an apartment. The place is filthy and appears to be falling apart. That's all that can be said about the apartment. It would make a terrible place to live in without some severe elbow grease, but as an equipment cache it would suffice.

"None will suspect you have weaponry hidden here," I comment, turning around and flicking my eyes across the Spartan apartment.

Roy snorts, "That'd be the point. It's just an equipment cache. Got a mattress if I need to sleep here for a night or two."

I glance at the mattress in the corner. I keep my hands firmly in my pockets. I do not wish to touch anything. This place is disgusting.

"I haven't gotten to cleaning this one yet, beyond, well, where I'm keeping my equipment, but it works," Roy continues, crouching and opening a panel in the wall where his bow and arrows are stored. "You could keep a spare pack here if you want."

I look back at him quizzically, "I have a team, Roy."

"Doesn't mean we can't patrol," he challenges, leaning his forearms on his knees.

"Patrols will be rare."

"You're on a team with a mole."

I sigh and turn to the dirty window.

"You're in the middle of a lion's den, Kalla," Roy says. I hear him rising behind me, "Do you have a plan for dealing with this?"

"Of course."

_Liar._

"What is it?" he asks.

I glare at the window, "I will have to perform my own investigation."

"How? Conner could be pre-programmed for all you know and the other two you don't have anything to compare their current attitudes to, to see if they're acting off."

"I am aware."

"So how are you gonna do this?" he asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall next to the window.

"That is none of your concern," I retort. "It is a team matter and I will deal with it as such."

"That's a load of crap. You're training with the enemy. You have the enemy watching your back. Whenever that happened to you on patrol I would be watching the back of the enemy. The same when it was me being targeted. This isn't any different."

The glare slips off my face. He has a point.

"The Team...it was created so that we could remain independent," I explain. "Engaging an external force would seem to be counter-productive to that purpose."

"No allies now?" he snorts. "That's gonna bite you in the ass, Kalla."

"What would you suggest, then?" I ask, turning to face him.

"I can investigate her – them – from the outside here. You do the inside work."

"You are entering this investigation with the belief that Artemis is a traitor," I point out logically, "that will colour your investigation."

"I'm a professional, I'll make sure my personal opinions don't mess with the investigation. Besides, how is that any different from how you're approaching it? You can't accept that maybe your radar is off and your teammates - the same ones that almost let you die in Bialya I might add - are not entirely trustworthy. You don't think that's going to colour your investigation."

He has a point. Again.

"Bialya is not the problem-"

"Not the problem?" he repeats incredulously. "You almost died in the middle of the desert of an enemy country! _Despite _the fact that (a) you shouldn't have been there because Atlanteans aren't supposed to go on desert missions, and (b) your team was supposed to be watching your back!"_  
_

"Our memories were wiped. We - they - could not-"

"And when their memories were 'returned' they still didn't pick you up."

"None of those memories included me, they could not remember that I was a part of the mission as well."

"Which is bullshit. They remembered who Mini-Boy-Blue was and you were there when you guys first found him."

I clamp my mouth shut, feeling myself shutting down.

Roy continues, "You nearly died in Bialya because your team fucked up and didn't remember their _team leader_. You shouldn't have been in Bialya in the first place, but your so-called 'General' named Batman decided that was a good idea, which is fucked up and I'm betting Orin reamed him out for that. One of your team members isn't even from Earth and is telepathic. Another was created by a company with _Lex Luthor_ on the Board of Directors and a team of telepathic creatures under that company's complete control, and he happened to attack you the first time he woke up. Another just came out of nowhere - I hadn't even heard of her and I know every archer around here. But you refuse to see that someone on your team, someone under your command, could be a mole."

I do not say anything. He is right, I do not wish to consider that a member of my team is a traitor. I do not wish to admit that though.

There is a long pause then Roy says, "I can hel-"

"I will deal with it, Roy," I cut him off, frustrated mainly with myself.

He looks like he wants to say something. Instead, he nods, "Fine, let's go to the next cache."

"I do appreciate the offer though," I say quickly, attempting to recover from my frustration as we head out of the apartment.

"Yeah, well, if you need me, call," he says.

A corner of my mouth quirks up, "Thank-you. Where to next?"

"Safe house."

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : September 10, 2010 – 14:54 EDT**

The high of the mission and being with Roy wears off over the next few days. The others are at school usually, and Red Tornado is doing whatever he does so I usually wind up in the Cave alone for quite a bit.

I work from the Cave, reading over the Team's reports – I still cannot look at the ones from Bialya – and Batman's reviews, and using my usual method for pinpointing problems in plans by reviewing everything and making notes. After, I go over the notes and pinpoint the patterns that come up. Most of the problems to do with the Team's missions seem to stem from unclear leadership or faulty teamwork. Both of which I believe rest on my shoulders to find a solution for, or to mitigate. _Wonderful. _At least it is a challenge.

There's an email from Batman on the League's system with the order to put together a compilation, a list, an essay, something, about what I believed the Team needed. From a leader or simply in general he did not specify so I started by simply brainstorming, pulling things from my notes on our reports. I add in my revisions according to how small squads in Atlantis work. Essentially though, it all boils down to the Team requiring "established protocols for a variety of situations."

I wonder if Batman is giving me this job because of my meltdown after Bialya. I suppose it cannot hurt, receiving such guidance from him. I did, after all, wish for it. Now it is here and though I thought I would have more relief over the guidance, I am not relieved and I am simply...

Distracted, I suppose.

I glance at the lone copy of _Essence_ I have in my room, my eyes flicking across the headlines on the cover. There is advice for exercise, a declaration of a quiz analyzing how you flirted, the first few words from the issue's primary article on a teenage girl bursting into the world of professional competitive chess, and the headline from the usual article on how to dress your body type. I sigh and lean back, lifting my arms up and dragging my hands across my skull. I pause, glancing at my arms, at the biceps and triceps flexing with the prosthetic channels winding across them.

It is stupid. Foolish. Tula would not…if I were male then perhaps but…it is foolish to think it. It is stupid to think that if I did not look as I did that she would hold affections for me. I would still be a woman and Tula is not attracted to women. It's stupid to think that my appearance had anything to do with it.

I am aware that I am attractive but I suppose it was inevitable that old insecurities returned after the rejection. I sigh and press my forehead to my desk. I hate it when this happens.

I rise and change into my civilian clothing, unable to restrain the sigh at the sight of my fading leg scars before pulling on my jeans.

M'gann will be at cheer practice. Conner may or may not be staying to wait for her. I suppose I will walk in the direction of the high school. I do not wish to stay in the Cave, it simply reminds me of Atlantis.

Twenty minutes later I am moments from the school and I am spotting Conner walking away from it. Beside him is a lanky white boy coasting on a skateboard with his mop of brown hair poking out from beneath his helmet. Conner raises an eyebrow at the sight of me and the boy beside him looks between us in confusion.

"Hello Conner," I greet, coming to a stop in front of them.

"What are you doing here?" Conner asks, clearly confused.

"I wished to go for a walk," I answer. "Clear my head. You are not waiting for Megan?"

He shakes his head, "No, Marvin wanted to show me his gaming system and Megan was going to hang out with the Bumblebees."

I look at the other boy, "Hello. I'm assuming you're Marvin. I'm Kalla, one of Conner's and Megan's friends."

"Yeah, that's me," he confirms. "Never seen you around school."

"I'm homeschooled," I lie. "I will not interrupt your fun," I say, stepping to the side. "Have fun."

Conner glances back at me with a frown and a distracted, "Yeah, sure." He raises his voice slightly and stops walking, "You know Megan will probably want to introduce you to the Bumblebees."

"I suppose I will stop at the field then. Thank-you, Conner."

He shrugs. They continue down the sidewalk, presumably to Marvin's home. I head in the opposite direction and pause by the school. A part of me wants to go back and ask if I can join them. That part is overpowered by the awareness that to do so I would be infringing on Conner's new friendships, on his independence. I do not wish to infringe on the few friendships outside of the super-world that M'gann is forming either. But…

With a frustrated sigh I stride towards the school's fields where I can spot the Bumblebees in their practice uniforms.

_::: Kalla? What are you doing here? I have my com-link on just in ca- :::_

_::: I wished to explore Happy Harbor. ::: _I answer hastily. _::: There is no mission, I assure you. :::_

_::: Oh. Okay. ::: _Megan says something to the black-haired white girl next to her. The girl turns as I approach the field. Her smile is strained.

"Apologies, I have no intent on interrupting," I assure her. "I was told that I could watch."

"She's homeschooled," Megan says quickly. "She's not from another school or anything, another team. Kalla, this is Wendy, head of the Bumblebees. Wendy this is Kalla."

"Apologies," I repeat.

Wendy sighs, "It's fine. Everyone seems to be trying to wait for their GFs or BFFs." She gestures to the bleachers where two boys are sitting, one a tall black boy wearing a Superman t-shirt and glaring at a textbook and the other a short white boy ignoring everyone as he nods his head along to the music emanating from his headphones.

"So not my BF," a white, blonde Bumblebee objects. "That's disgusting."

"Sisters, GFs or BFFs," Wendy amended.

"Mal is just struggling with the first concept in Physics," a black, brunette Bumblebee says. "I'm helping him when I can. He'll be fine with the rest of the concepts." She looks at me, "Hey, you know anything about Physics?"

"Ah…not much," I answer. "Beyond practical usage that is."

"Darn."

"I will leave," I say. "I apologize for interrupting. Sorry Megan."

_::: Wendy isn't trying to kick you out. ::: _Megan remarks.

_::: I interrupted her team's training. She has every right to. I will see you later at the Cave. :::_

_::: Bumblebees have a bonding thing tonight, I won't be back until late. :::_

_::: It's fine. :::_

_::: Okay…are you okay? :::_

_::: I'm fine. ::: _I say, turning and heading to the edge of the field.

_::: You seem sad. Is it Tula? :::_

I twitch and shove my hands deeper into my pockets, _::: I am fine, M'gann, I assure you. Enjoy your training. :::_

The connection breaks off.

I should really make some friends here in Happy Harbor. This is getting ridiculous.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : September 18, 2010 – 10:32 EDT**

I stare at my tablet where the report template for Atlantis is pulled up. I take another bite of my breakfast fruit salad then push it to the side and begin to fill in the form.

oOoOo

**MISSION REPORT **

**ι-029407 KALLADURA'HAM "AQUALASS", OFFICER CADET  
SUBMITTED: 2010/09/18  
SUPERIOR(S): α-068101 ORIN "AQUAMAN", KING | ****β-088406 ORM, PRINCE | ζ****-196912 HUSSAL, CAPTAIN**

**MISSION SPECIFICATIONS  
**2010/09/14 to 2010/09/17  
**Location(s):  
**Primary – Belle Reve Penitentiary, Belle Reve Parish, Louisiana, United States  
Secondary – New Orleans, Louisiana, United States  
Tertiary – Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island, United States  
**Operative(s):**  
Primary – M'gann M'orzz "Miss Martian" [B05], Conner Kent "Superboy" [B04]  
Secondary – Kalladura'ham "Aqualass" [B02], John Smith "Red Tornado" [16]  
Tertiary – Batman [02], Superman [01], J'onn J'onzz "Martian Manhunter" [07]  
Civilians – Warden Amanda Waller, Doctor Hugo Strange, Staff of Belle Reve Penitentiary  
**Lead(s):**  
Primary – Batman [02]  
Secondary – Kalladura'ham "Aqualass" [B07], M'gann M'orzz "Miss Martian" [B05]  
**Target(s):  
**Primary – Crystal Frost "Killer Frost", Victor Fries "Mister Freeze", Leonard Snart "Captain Cold", Cameron Mahkent "Icicle Jr."  
Secondary – Tommy Terror, Tuppence Terror  
**Transport:  
**Zeta-Tubes  
Bio-Ship  
Belle Reve Penitentiary Transport Trucks  
**Purpose:** Investigate suspicions of a plot conceived by the Primary Targets that initially resulted in the Primary Targets being imprisoned simultaneously in Belle Reve Penitentiary.

**MISSION PHASES  
Phase One (2010/09/14): **Operatives capture Secondary Targets. Superboy takes the place of Tommy Terror. Miss Martian takes the place of Tuppence Terror. **SUCCESSFUL**  
**Phase Two (2010/09/15): **Send Primary Operatives into Belle Reve Penitentiary via the penitentiary's transports with Cameron Mahkent and Victor Fries. **SUCCESSFUL**  
**Phase Three (2010/09/15-2010/09/17): **Internal investigation of Belle Reve Penitentiary via Primary Operatives with Secondary Operatives on standby. No one outside of Primary, Secondary and Tertiary Operatives are aware of the investigation.  
**Results: **Primary Targets and Icicle Sr. planning a mass breakout of Belle Reve.  
**Obstacles Encountered: **Miss Martian's cover as Tuppence Terror was discovered by Crystal Frost and the rest of the penitentiary's women's side. Miss Martian was encased in a block of ice in the penitentiary. Lost contact between Primary and Secondary Operatives.  
**Phase Four (2010/09/17): **Re-establish contact between Primary and Secondary Operatives.  
**Obstacles Encountered: **Contact was unable to be established until Primary Operatives re-established contact between one-another.  
**Phase Four-A: **Superboy re-establishes contact with Miss Martian. **SUCCESSFUL**  
**Phase Four-B: **Miss Martian re-establishes telepathic link between Primary Operatives and Aqualass. **SUCCESSFUL**  
**Phase Five (2010/09/17): **Prevent the breakout. **SUCCESSFUL  
**Superboy re-activated the Inhibitor Collars before getting into the Women's Side and re-establishing contact with Miss Martian (see: Phase Four-A). Contact was re-established with Aqualass (see: Phase Four-B) and the remaining guards were rallied to help in re-imprisoning the prisoners

**RESULTS  
**Successful containment of prisoners.  
One escapee – Edward Nigma "The Riddler"  
Maintained positive relationship with Belle Reve Penitentiary via Warden Waller and Dr. Strange.

**RECOMMENDATIONS  
**Continued investigation into The Riddler, how he escaped, where he is now.  
Investigation into where and how the mass breakout plan was initially conceived. Recommend investigation into Icicle Sr. and get information from Dr. Strange on prisoner's history.

oOoOo

I lean back, tapping my fingers against the table. I cannot think of anything else. The mission itself was a resounding success, save for the Riddler issue. I did, admittedly, get rather antsy while waiting in the Bio-Ship with Red Tornado if Miss Martian or Superboy required backup. There are only so many times a person can play solitaire. Perhaps I should note that.

I suppose that would be noted in my actual Case Notes though, which I will submit along with the formal report for Annex's, and my other supervisors', review.

With a sigh I rise and head to the zeta-tube room where Batman is fiddling with the tube's specifications. I hand the USB stick with my Batman version of the report to him, "My report, sir."

Batman takes it and puts it one of his many pockets.

I hesitate. I should tell him, shouldn't I, about the possibility of a mole?

No, I can handle this. Roy was wrong. I can handle this by myself. Besides, I should probably conduct my own investigation first and then involve Batman and tell him of my conclusions.

"Was there something else?" he asks, not looking back at me.

"No sir," I answer.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : September 22, 2010 – 18:43 EDT**

"So you have told no one else of this 'mole?'" asks Red Tornado.

"I cannot be sure one exists," I explain. "And if it does, if the Team is being betrayed from within, I must investigate without…tipping my hand. But, perhaps I should tell Batman?"

"Generally, The Batman expects the Team to handle its own problems, but the decision is yours," says Red Tornado. "I will return after monitor duty on the Watchtower."

"I thought you were exempt from monitor duty, since becoming our, ah, den-mother," I comment.

/ Recognized, Red Tornado 16, / the computer beeps.

"I agreed to cover for Green Arrow," he explains. "He has an interpersonal event with Black Canary, a 'hot date.'"

He vanishes.

I did not think that anyone was allowed to blow off monitor duty for a "hot date." Although, if anyone were to do that I would not be surprised that it would be Green Arrow.

I had finally decided that, while I may not tell Batman immediately of the mole situation I should at least tell the team's...den-mother. Beyond that, I can handle this myself. I will start seriously investigating today, and later on I will actually read the Bialya reports. I have only read the file names of the Bialya reports thus far.

With that in mind I head to where I know Miss Martian, Superboy and Kid Flash are working on Superboy's bike.

"Torque wrench," says Kid Flash. Miss Martian levitates one to him and he grins, "Thank-you Greencheeks."

I sigh as I approach them, "I have been meaning to ask, is there any problem juggling schoolwork with your responsibilities here?"

"Nope," Superboy answers.

"Juggling's one of my many talents," boasts Kid Flash. "Socket wrench."

"Cheerleading practice has presented a challenged. Oh but my first loyalty is always to the Team! _This_ Team, not the Bumblebees," says Miss Martian.

"Artemis starts school today, do you think she will have trouble maintaining her loyalties?" I ask, inwardly grimacing.

I hate this. I hate this so much. I do not want to have to do this, investigate my own teammates. I must remain objective though. I cannot let my personal hang-ups influence this investigation. Just breathe, Kalla, breathe and remember _objective._ I can do this.

"Aw, she'll manage alright," says Kid Flash, rising from the bike. "I mean how much more hostile and annoying can she ge-"

_BOOMCRASH!_

I hit the ground, my ears ringing, dust and debris floating around me. The explosion quickly calms and the water retreats as I roll to my feet, drawing out my water-whips in the same instant as I feel Miss Martian establish a psychic link.

_::: Is everyone alright? ::: _ I ask immediately, sprinting for cover from the unknown assailant.

There's a confirmation from everyone, alongside Kid Flash's exclamation, _::: Who the heck is attacking – ack! :::_

I spin, sensing the rising water.

It's too much.

I drop the water-whips and act instinctively, grabbing command over the water and splitting it in half, giving me a clear shot to the person controlling it. It's an android. A red one that looks far too much like Red Tornado to be a coincidence.

_::: What are they – RT's siblings? ::: _Kid Flash exclaims in confusion.

They?

In the next instant the psychic link is down and I shout, "Miss Martian!"

I feel the water being ripped out of my control as I sprint between the walls of water and head straight for the hydrokinetic android. I skid across the ground, dodge a blast of water and snap up to send my foot colliding with the android's head. The android careens to the side, landing in the pool entrance. He rises and water wraps around me, encasing me completely in a water bubble. That is about as unthreatening as an attack can possibly get for an Atlantean so is hardly a concern.

I take the chance given by the terrible attack choice and glance to where Kid Flash and Superboy are trying to take out a pyrokinetic female-looking android. Miss Martian is down on the platform, likely courtesy of the flames.

I grit my teeth and send my mystic energy shooting out of the bubble.

It explodes and I flip to dive into the water. The water retreats from the pool though and I barely manage to get my hands out to catch myself and roll on the bottom of the emptied pool. I snap to my feet in time to block a powerhouse blast of water that slams me straight into the pool wall, cracking it. My water-bearers fly from my grasp and suddenly I'm being shot out of the water and onto the platform with Miss Martian.

Flames surround me immediately and water rushes through the water entrance, rising rapidly, well past the safe level for the others. I move immediately to try and get past the flames but they surge up, sending a blast of hot air all around me that throws me backwards and stings my forearms.

I scramble to my hands and knees, unable to stand in the fire cage, and look down at the water rapidly beginning to flood the area. Kid Flash and Superboy are shouting expletives, struggling against the rapidly cooled metal that is keeping them restrained like modern art statues on the ground.

Shit. I put a hand to my com-link and grimace at the silence that greets me. Communications are locked down.

Shit. I need to get down there. Get the water away from them.

I turn to M'gann, unconscious on the ground next to me, "M'gann. M'gann, you must wake."

I shake her lightly. She moans in response. I struggle to keep my breathing level and glance around me at the fire cage, searching for a fault in the design. There is none that I can see.

Kid Flash and Superboy are below us encased in melted then hardened metal. I can see the water from here but I cannot control it, not from up here without my water-bearers while I am being drained of energy due to the flames. I am useless right now.

I force my breathing to slow to a calmer pace then set M'gann's head in my lap and watch the androids carefully as I slow my breathing to something more manageable in the heat that is quickly overtaking my senses. I glance at my forearms and grimace at the small burns that sting something fierce.

This is bad.

Time passes, but I don't know how much. All I know is that M'gann is growing worse, it is getting more difficult to breathe, Sphere is still suck below us against the platform, Kid Flash and Superboy are trapped in the perfect position to be drowned, and I cannot figure out what to do.

I need to get out of this cage. Once I do that I will be able to get into the water and actually _do something_. I cannot get out of this cage without running straight through the flames though, an act that will undoubtedly kill me. I need to communicate with someone outside of the cave, the League, Atlantis, any…

_Please be nearby. Please be nearby. Please be nearby._

I shut my eyes tightly and put everything I have into the psychic link I have with my matim. It is a long shot but, right now, it is the only shot I have.

It is obvious that it is not working.

Fuck.

Perhaps…I lean over to get a look at the water. It is not _that_ far away. Surely, I have enough control and power to grab enough of it to douse at least a wall of this cage, enough for me to dive out of it.

I rest M'gann on the ground and crawl over her to crouch closer to the edge of the cage, acutely aware of the fact that my limbs are trembling.

I hold my hands out to the water and exhale shakily. I pull at the coiled energy seated deep within me, urging it to come out, to wind up my back channels and down my arm ones. It responds by retreating further down. I cannot even get a simple glow.

This is bad. This is really bad.

I move back to M'gann and rest a dry hand on hers. How am I supposed to communicate with someone outside? My com-link isn't working, M'gann is down and Matim is nowhere near.

I glance down at the symbol of Atlantis acting as my belt buckle. Perhaps?

I pull it off and fiddle with it for a moment, working to get the two sections separated. I doubt it will work if my com-link doesn't but I have to try it.

Success! I get the two sections separated and am greeted with the insides of Atlantean communication tech, a combination of sorcery and science. I need to charge it with a burst of mystic energy. That is problematic, considering I cannot even glow right now. It is not going to work. Dammit.

I rest M'gann's head in my lap again. There has to be a way out of here.

**19:13 EDT**

/ Recognized, Robin B01. Artemis, B07. /

Oh thank Poseidon.

Wait, no, shit. Red Inferno, the pyrokinetic, just left, it's probably an ambush. Just what we need, our two remaining teammates drowned and/or incinerated. _Wonderful._

I am going to rip these androids apart. Then I am going to find their creator and stuff him, I'm assuming it is T.O. Morrow, into the remnants of the Gulf of Mexico.

There's a distant explosion, followed by silence, which does not bode well for anyone.

::: Attention Robin. Attention Artemis, ::: Red Torpedo, the hydrokinetic, announces over the intercom. ::: You have exactly ten minutes to surrender or the lives of your teammates will be extinguished. :::

I look up, shifting slightly in an attempt to put myself between Red Inferno and M'gann as Inferno approaches. The flames of the cage grow larger. I wince then force myself to look down at Kid Flash and Superboy. Water is rising around them, slowly but steadily. It will engulf them eventually. If I could just remain conscious long enough to manipulate the water as it got to their noses I could give them some air but, firstly, I cannot manipulate the water in my current position and secondly, I doubt I will remain conscious long enough.

Bialya took me out in a matter of hours but this…this is so much worse. It's fire. My every instinct screams at me to get away from it.

I need to do something. Anything.

Okay, okay, just think Kalla. _Think._ There has to be something you can do.

::: Eight minutes. :::

I squeeze M'gann's shoulder lightly. I can feel myself buckling. Sweat is dripping from places I did not even know I had. I feel like I am melting.

"You guys okay?" I hear Robin ask.

Fuck, I can barely breathe properly.

"Forget us, help M'gann!" shouts Superboy.

"Aqualass, how is she?" shouts Artemis. Artemis and Robin must be in the water down there.

I take in a breath and my first attempt to speak is too quiet. I clear my throat and exclaim, "She is unconscious! I fear she – we – cannot survive much longer!"

No, I _know_ we will not survive much longer. I'm going to die soon. _We_ are going to die soon.

M'gann slips from my arms. I slide slightly and pull her up tighter in my grasp, trying to mentally communicate reassurances to her.

If only Robin or Artemis could take down one of the flaming walls. I could get M'gann and I out of here. I could roll into the water, find my water-bearers down there, and rip that goddamn Red Inferno apart. We are a foot away from the edge of the platform! I would just have to roll and I would be in the water! This is infuriating. It is like a sea down there and I cannot use it!

Red Inferno flies around us to the stairs, where apparently Artemis and Robin are. She shoots out flames and steam rises halfway down the stairs. I am taking that as a sign that she hit Red Torpedo's shot of water instead of Robin and Artemis.

_Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay._

Fuck. How are we supposed to do this?

I lean over, holding M'gann with one arm and using my other arm to help support myself. I feel nauseous and faint. This is just _wonderful._

::: Four minutes. :::

"Hey! Red Tomato! Who's your girlfriend, Red Onion?" Kid Flash shouts mockingly.

What the hell are they doing?

"Yeah, worst death trap ever! We can escape anytime we want!" Superboy shouts.

"I can vibrate my molecules out of here before your binary brains can count to two!"

"And you can't drown a Kryptonian, dumbbots, we don't breathe air!"

Kid Flash laughs, "And Miss Martian? I can't believe you're buying her act!"

"Yeah, you know how hot it gets in the caves of Mars?!" laughs Superboy. "That cage is just making her homesick!"

"Duh!"

I look at the androids. They are clearly not falling for the distraction the other two are providing for whatever Robin and Artemis are planning on doing.

Water crashes across the room to the Cave's main generator where I catch a glimpse of Robin before he's pulled under. I lurch forward, instinctively stopping before I get too close to the fire cage surrounding M'gann and I. Fireballs are sent hurtling towards Artemis, who manages to dodge them and get away. I think. I hope. But Robin….Robin is being pulled up by a pillar of water he is completely submerged in.

"Rob-" I can barely speak but I focus on trying to get my sorcery to work. There's not even a glow of my channels before the flames suddenly jump and I fall backwards against M'gann. I'm shaking again, like in Bialya. I want to vomit.

I watch, struggling to breathe with my stomach writhing and my eyes burning as Robin is dumped beside us. He doesn't move. His chest is not rising and falling. No. Nononono.

_Focus, Kalla._

Surely, going through one of the walls of the fire cage will not be _too_ damaging. I could…I need…

We are a foot away from the water! I just need an instant. Just an instant.

I am shaking too much to support myself though. I lower myself to the ground.

It's so similar to Bialya, but so much worse at the same time.

It seems like an instant, but some time must pass because I open my eyes – when did I close them? – and push myself up when Artemis says, "I surrender, stop the clock."

I stare at her, trying to figure out what she's doing. She must know it's a trap. She has to.

She holds her bow out to the Reds. Then, she jumps. She launches herself off the Reds and flips backwards, simultaneously notching an arrow and letting it fly straight past the Reds and to the Cave's main generator. The arrow collides with the generator and I feel the pulse pass out from the generator and…EMP device, I realize. The Reds collapse, crackling with electricity.

The cage extinguishes and I glance down at M'gann resting against my side. She's breathing, thank Poseidon.

"Kalla! How's M'gann?!" shouts Superboy.

I take in a few more breaths then answer, "She breathes! She will recover." I look at Artemis, "What of Robin?"

Gently I lay M'gann's head on the ground and push myself onto my hands and knees, pushing past the exhaustion and my trembling muscles. If I need to I could – I think I could manipulate the water out of his lungs. I think. I hope.

He coughs and I promptly collapse. Possibly out of relief. More likely out of exhaustion. I breathe face first on the floor, wondering absently how the hell the position was comfortable.

"He's breathing too!" Artemis exclaims.

Robin breathes, "Heh, way to get traught."

I feel like crying I'm so relieved to be out of that stupid cage, so relieved they're all okay.

My limbs still shaking I push myself onto my hands and knees. _Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall._

I turn and crouch next to M'gann as she stirs. My head is spinning. I feel ready to fall over, again.

"Kalla?" M'gann ventures, staring up at me.

I grasp her hand tightly, "It is done."

She half-smiles and squeezes my hand as I help her up to a sitting position.

"M'gann, you okay?" Artemis asks, crouching in front of us.

"I'll be fine," she responds, flashing another half-smile.

"Superboy, Kid," I exclaim, not daring to try to stand yet, "are you well?"

"We're good!" Kid Flash shouts. "Just stuck!"

M'gann, with her arm over my shoulders and my arm around her waist, rises alongside me. I am trying to will my body to stop shaking. It doesn't entirely work. My hands continue to tremble and my head continues to spin. M'gann's hand moves to my hand at her waist and grips it tightly.

_::: You okay? ::: _M'gann asks.

_::: I will be fine, thank-you. :::_

"I'll grab something to cut the other two out," Artemis offers before darting away.

"Traught?" Robin asks as M'gann and I head, slowly, down the platform.

"Yes?" I venture uncertainly, breathing heavier than usual. "You are well?"

"I'm cool," he says as we head to Superboy and Kid Flash. Artemis returns with a laser to cut the guys out as Robin explains, "Figured my only chance was to pretend to surrender. Blacked out though."

"M'gann," Conner's hand twitches against the mass of metal.

"I'll be fine," M'gann says, grasping his hand.

That water is tempting. Extremely tempting.

"Would you quit playing with that thing and cut us free already?" Kid Flash exclaims, glaring at Artemis.

"It's not working, genius," Artemis snaps. "EMP shuts down all machines, remember?"

"All machines present at the time," Red Tornado says, flying into the Cave. "What has occurred?"

"Had a little visit from your family," Robin says, glancing back at the Reds.

"Your extremely nasty family," Artemis adds.

"I was not aware I had relations," Red Tornado responds.

Superboy snaps as Tornado heads to the Reds, "Where've you been?"

"Monitor duty on the Watchtower. When it became clear Cave communications were down, I attempted to investigate, but your zeta-tubes were also non-functional. I transported to Providence and proceeded here."

Sphere shakes against the platform then leaps from his confinement and rolls towards us. Artemis' laser shoots at the ground, jolting her backwards.

Robin and Kid Flash exclaim, "The pulse has worn off!"

Oh no.

Red Tornado rises into the air and wind whips around us. My eyes widen as suddenly the air in front of me is sucked right out of my grasp. My hands snap to my throat and my knees crack against the ground. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't-

Atlantean seeps into my ears, ~"…a'ham, Kalla, please, wake up. That is an order, if that helps."~

Annex?

I blink and find myself staring at, yes, Annex Orin. He grips my upper arm firmly and helps pull me up to a sitting position.

~"You are warm,"~ he notes.

~"Ca-cage of fire,"~ I explain, looking around me to see the rest of the mentors, plus Superman, Captain Atom and Black Canary. The Team is there as well. Superman is crouched next to Artemis with Green Arrow, trying to wake her up. I still, suddenly terrified for Artemis.

I push myself to my feet, swaying. Annex tightens his grip on me and follows my gaze to Artemis lying on the ground, ~"She is well."~

I see Artemis' mane of hair move slightly and then Superman asks, "Artemis, what happened here?"

She pushes herself up to a sitting position, exclaiming, "What happened? The Reds happened!" She looks around, her eyes wide, "Wait, where are they?"

I look around hastily, noting for the first time the odd absence of our foes. Annex puts an arm around my waist, keeping me upright and simultaneously calming my sudden rush of alarm.

"Gone," says Robin. "They're gone."

I feel the blood drain from my face.

~"We must locate them,"~ I say.

~"No, _you_ must get in the water before you pass out, again,"~ Annex says, leading me towards the water. I do not bother protesting. He is right.

"Aquaman," Batman says. Annex turns, shoots Batman a _look_, and I catch that there is some sort of silent communication between the two of them before Annex returns to getting me into the water.

~"The Team-"~

~"Are taken care of,"~ Annex promises, stepping into the water with me.

Soon, we are completely submerged and are heading outside of the Cave, past the debris. I am still shaking though and I can feel Annex watching me.

~"How is training?"~ he asks.

~"Well. Different from what I am accustomed to, but I believe it is going well,"~ I answer, feeling my energy returning beneath the water.

~"I am glad you are well,"~ he says out of nowhere, stopping.

I stop and hover in the water in front of him. I don't know what to say to that. After a moment, I respond, ~"Thank-you for coming, Annex."~

My voice wavers on the final syllable. I hate fire. I hate heat. Why is the surface-world so difficult to operate upon? I am half-human; it should not be this difficult.

He looks at me, sadness crossing his face, then puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. It takes everything I have to not lurch forward and hug him. I just want a hug. That's all. I just want to…I do not know. Not be scared of the heat, not be scared of fire, not be scared about the possibility of a mole, and just know that it's okay, that I'm safe. It would be inappropriate though, to hug Annex. We did when he and Anassa announced that she was pregnant but that is an entirely different situation.

~"You are strong,"~ he finally says, ~"you will get past these hurdles. I know that."~ My jaw tightens. He adds, ~"Mera and I have been talking and wished to know what you thought about being our child's Patrōna."~

'Protector,' is the closest literal translation, but the word means so much more than simply 'protector.'

My shock must show on my face because Annex explains, ~"Of course, Orm is already to be his or her uncle, and with the child's status being what it is to be – Prince, Princess – we believe it would be best if the Patrōna were someone we both trusted with the life of our child."~

Oh Poseidon. _Oh Poseidon._

A Patrōna is similar to, I suppose, a godparent. She or he is responsible for protecting the child, physically mostly, and guiding the child, mentoring the child through their life, all without giving up the duty of protection.

~"Your duties would be adjusted to accommodate your duties on the surface as Aqualass,"~ Annex says.

My title prompts me to snap back into my training and raise my fist in a salute, ~"It would be an honour to be the Patrōna of your child."~

~"Think about it,"~ he says, a corner of his mouth twitching up. ~"You do not have to make a decision immediately."~

~"Yes sir."~

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait! I've been incredibly busy.

Roy and Kalla both have good points.  
I don't think I'll do the mission report thing again, but the results of that mission are important so...there they are. Riddler escaped, Dr. Strange is there, Ice Villains.

**R&R**


	28. Kalladura'ham 22

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 113: Alpha Male._

**_Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence_**

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_A true leader has the confidence to stand alone, the courage to make tough decisions, and the compassion to listen to the needs of others. He does not set out to be a leader, but becomes one by the equality of his actions and the integrity of his intent."_

Douglas MacArthur

* * *

**22**

**Sender: **glorigrrrl72  
**Date: **Wed, 22 September 2010 23:52:46 -0400  
**From: **Pansy Zeelie  
**Organization: **u-Mail  
**To: **knightlight**  
Subject: **Success!

HAHAHA. I DID IT.

I finally managed to get in contact with webmasters of _teenspeedster_ and _theboywonder_. They don't have as much info on their respective superheroes as I do, with my unfair advantage, but that is beside the point. Their graphics are flawless and we've agreed to share info.

SO. WHAT INFO CAN I GIVE THEM ABOUT YOUR BADASS SELF?

;P

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : September 23, 2010 – 06:34 EDT**

/ Synchronizing Cave Security Protocols with Watchtower mainframe. /

I cross my arms and turn from looking at the rest of the Team sitting at the table looking far past frustrated and simply hitting anger. I look to Batman, who, as expected, has noticed my distraction and is clearly expecting an explanation.

"When I was on a mission with Red Arrow we encountered Sportsmaster. Sportsmaster revealed the possibility of a mole within the Team," I explain softly. "In light of last night's attack it would appear that Tornado is the traitor. Although, whether he betrayed us willingly or was programmed is still-"

"YOU KNEW?!"

Batman darts out of the way an instant before Conner collides with me, his grip on my shirt unrelenting. He lifts me off the ground and my back collides with the wall with most of his strength behind the hit. I snap my foot up and barely restrain myself from kicking him in the ribs or the groin in an instinctive move to get him off me.

His eyes are wide, furious, frightening. They're far too similar to the eyes of the people who have slammed me into things in an attempt to take me down. I can feel his knuckles digging into my shoulders as he shouts, "That android and his maniac family nearly killed M'gann!"

Spittle hits my face and I grip his wrists to give myself some support in lieu of not actually being on the ground.

"Conner!" M'gann shouts, flying towards us. "What are you doing?"

I tighten my grip on his wrists as he slams me again against the wall, lifting me another inch off the ground, "Kalla knew we had a traitor among us and said nothing!"

"You knew?!" Robin exclaims.

"And didn't tell us?!" Kid Flash picks up.

Apparently they are unconcerned with the fact that Conner is slamming me against the wall. Which is, while something that I can withstand, not something that I enjoy. My eyes narrow sharply and I press my right foot against Conner's ribcage in an attempt to support myself and keep him as far away from me as possible. I do not wish to be crushed by a Kryptonian.

I explain sharply, my eyes not leaving Conner's, "I sought to protect the Team from-"

"Protect us from what? Knowledge that might have saved our lives?" Artemis snaps.

If you would let me finish perhaps you would know!

"You almost died!" Conner shouts, glancing back at M'gann.

As did everyone else.

"Enough," Batman snaps.

Conner releases me and I fall the six inches he had lifted me up. I restrain myself from rubbing my shoulders where his knuckles had dug in.

"With Red Tornado missing, the Team will now be overseen by rotating supervisors," Batman explains as the Team steps towards him. "Captain Marvel has volunteered to take the first shift."

Captain Marvel steps forward, "I'm really looking forward to hanging with you guys."

Conner glares at me, "I'm gonna dismantle Red Tornado and then we-"

"Red Tornado is a member of the Justice League," says Batman, effectively verbally stepping between Conner and I, "and therefore a League responsibility. You will leave him to us."

Conner glares right back at him.

"I have another assignment for this team," Batman announces.

A series of articles pop up on the holographic computer, all about a gorilla attack, wherein the gorilla was wielding a gatling gun.

Well. That was odd.

"Gotham mayor attacked by guerrilla gorilla?" Kid Flash repeats, reading one of the headlines.

"Batman, please! Tell me you're not sending us on this joke of a wild ape chase!" Robin exclaims.

"I never joke about the mission," Batman reports, effectively silencing Robin. "I've checked the sources, I've studied the patterns. Mayor Hill's encounter is only the latest in a series of incidents. Aqualass, you and your team will depart for India and check this out."

The Team strides past me, Kid Flash scoffing as he passes me, "Heh, _your_ team."

I watch them leave, my jaw tight. I glance back at Batman, Black Canary, Green Arrow and Captain Marvel. Batman just fixates me with a constant stare. I turn and follow the rest of the Team.

This is going to be a mission that tries my patience. That, I can already see.

We head to the hanger and as the Miss Martian, Superboy and Artemis climb into the Bio-Ship Robin stops and looks at Captain Marvel landing beside him, "You're coming with?"

"Sure! It'll be fun," Captain Marvel grins, not a hint of an ulterior motive on his face. He flies into the Bio-Ship after Artemis.

"Translation: he blames us for Red Fiasco," says Robin, looking at Kid Flash.

"It's a big club," Kid Flash says, glancing back at me.

I grit my teeth and give them a headstart to get on the Bio-Ship. Were they really that naïve? This was exactly what I was trying to avoid. I suppose I should not have mentioned the mole thing to Batman while within Conner's hearing range, but…really? This was what I had been trying to avoid!

I walk onto the Bio-Ship and am immediately assaulted by the team either glaring at me or determinedly ignoring me. The only people not giving off hostile vibes are Miss Martian and Captain Marvel, and that seems to just be because Miss Martian seems to be more uncomfortable than angry. Hopefully, she understands my motivations for doing what I did. I do not want every person on the team despising me for making a necessary decision. The _right _necessary decision at that.

How can they not see my motivations behind my decision? I made the right one, I know I did. How can they not see that?

The flight to India is tense, to say the least.

* * *

**Northern India : September 23, 2010 – 21:36 IST**

"All clear," reports Robin as we head out of the Bio-Ship.

I switch to stealth and order, "Switch to stealth and we will review mission parameters."

"Parameters?" Kid Flash scoffs. "We don't need no stinkin' parameters."

"It's recon, we know what to do," says Robin.

Robin and Kid Flash turn, intent on heading off together.

"Kid, Robin," I stop them, stepping forward.

They turn, Robin snapping, "The three of us started this team because the Justice League was keeping secrets from us."

"Or, did you forget that like you forgot to tell us about the mole?" says Kid Flash.

I hesitate, alarmed. They leave when I hesitate. I can feel the last threads of control I have over the Team beginning to fall from my fingers. I do not like it.

"C'mon," says Superboy, grabbing Miss Martian by the arm. "I'll keep you safe."

She glares at him and pulls her arm away from him. Just from the expression on her face I can tell that she's confronting him about the overprotective tendencies he has.

Superboy looks thrown by whatever she said telepathically and says lamely, "I...just wanna protect you."

"Like Aqualass protected us?" Artemis snaps, glaring at him. "I'm not sure your protection, or your patronizing, is good for our health."

The girls turn, walking away. At least they were a good team together, in terms of their strengths and weaknesses. I would have preferred Kid with myself, and Robin with Superboy though.

"Why didn't you stop them?" Superboy shouts. "You're supposed to be in charge!"

"Superboy, I am-"

"You were right," he snaps, "Batman should have intervened when we chose a leader. You're a crappy leader."

He leaps away. My mouth is hanging open. How did he know what I said to Batman? Did he hear my breakdown after Bialya or…? Oh shit. Of course he did. Super-hearing.

I exhale heavily. What am I supposed to do when they will not listen to me?

We do not have a decent plan. We do not have any backups. We do not have a psychic link established. It is the first few missions all over again, and those were disastrous. Gonzalez _died._

"Um, did I miss the part where you actually said what the plan was?" asks Captain Marvel.

I sigh, shake my head, and head off in the direction no one else went. At least we can try to salvage this mission. Captain Marvel follows me.

We walk, watching for any signs of foul play. Captain Marvel stops eventually and crouches and I stop beside him, staring into the forest. There is something off. My instincts are screaming at me that besides the Team there is also something wrong here, in the forest.

"Guess this is where Mayor Hill's monkey business went down. So, at least we've confirmed his story, Aqualass?"

I turn, my eyes widening as he stands, "Apologies, Captain. I…I am plagued by doubts."

He raises an eyebrow, which does absolutely nothing to alleviate any of my doubts. I look at the ground and wrap my arms around myself, "Perhaps I was wrong to withhold-"

_Boom! Boom! Boom!_

What was that?

I glance at the ground as I turn and put my back against Captain Marvel's. The rocks on the ground are trembling in time with the booms. Are those footsteps?

An elephant five stories tall charges out of the forest.

What. The. Fuck.

I thought only Atlantis had animals that immense!

Captain Marvel shoots up past me, punching the elephant in the face and sliding it back a few feet. The elephant grabs Captain Marvel's leg with his trunk and flings the superhero across the forest.

A second immense elephant, with spikes marring its hide, charges out of the opposite side of the forest. I glance between the two elephants and grip my water-bearers tightly. I had expected gorillas, not elephants!

I dart to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed by a trunk. The ground shakes when the trunk impacts with the ground though and I stumble, narrowly managing to right myself in time to glance back, catch sight of another trunk, and leap. The elephant swats me to the side with its trunk, sending me crashing to the ground in front of Captain Marvel.

"Augh!"

I roll quickly to my feet, my back stinging with the impact, and dart past one of the elephant's trunks to sprint beneath it. I skid to the side, perform a dive-roll to dodge a foot, and shoot to my feet as Captain Marvel begins flying again. How are we supposed to beat a couple of elephants that are five stories tall? Beyond that, why are they attacking us? I thought elephants were not aggressive! Granted, my knowledge of elephants is limited to the popular culture of the surface-world, but I think it is still a valid question! Most animals would not continue attacking Captain Marvel after he punched them in the face.

Okay, think Kalla. Just think. How is one supposed to fend off an elephant attack?

I have no idea. Give me a kraken, a dolphin, anything from the ocean and I will be able to fend off an attack. An elephant is not anything I ever believed I would have to deal with!

Captain Marvel punches one of the elephants and is flung in the air by the other one thanks to his trunk. The elephant that had flung Captain Marvel in the air is wearing a collar. A quick glance at the other elephant confirms that it is wearing an identical one. Who would put collars on a couple of elephants?

I unleash my water-bearers, creating twin water-whips, and dart towards one of the elephants. I snap up a water-whip and wrap it around the collar as I leap.

"Hi-yah!"

I land, slicing straight through the collar with highly pressurized water that also channels the electrical backlash from the collar. The collar falls to the ground behind me. I watch, tense, as the elephant stares at me for a moment then turns and walks away.

I turn and shout at Captain Marvel, "Remove the collar!"

Captain Marvel promptly streaks through the air and around the elephant's head. The collar falls to the ground and the elephant rears, stomping on the collar. In a moment, the elephant is walking away, following the other one.

I glance down at the remnants of the collar from the elephant I had battled. This is odd.

"Pretty sweet how you figured out the problem was the collars," Captain Marvel comments, landing beside me.

"The collars indicate an intelligence behind this attack. The rest of the Team may also be in danger," I say. I activate my com-link, "Team, report stat-" _Fzzt! _I cringe and pull my hand away from my ear, "Communications is jammed, and Miss Martian did not establish a telepathic link before we split up."

This just keeps getting better and better.

"Actually, you let everyone split up before communications were set," Captain Marvel says.

"They would not listen!" I protest, flinging my hands in the air.

"I guess," he shrugs, "but, back at the Cave, Batman stopped everyone from arguing with one word."

"Because Batman is…Batman!" I retort. Not my best argument, but I think it proves my point.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me. When I first joined the League all he did was boss me around, and it's hard not to take it personally, but, I never disobeyed an order," he says, "and that's probably what kept me alive."

Is he saying that because I can't make a bunch of hormonally charged superpowered teenagers follow me it will lead to them being hurt? How entirely not comforting.

I frown, "Batman takes command. Takes…" I look across the forest, "He takes command, for the good of the League." I look at the ground, "I do not know if I can do that."

Captain Marvel raises an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Because I am not supposed to be a leader. I am supposed to be a soldier. I am supposed to be quiet and unobtrusive."

When I was loud, when I protested how people treated me, they attacked. When I expressed my fears, I was belittled. When I attempted to tell people what to do, how to do something, they laughed. I can't do this. I can't.

Captain Marvel frowns, "Maybe whoever told you that was wrong."

Oh, so the newspapers were all wrong, so everyone who yelled that I shouldn't be a superheroine was wrong, so everyone who broke my toys and shouted in my face and smeared slurs for _'impure'_ across my matim's property were wrong. So everyone who tells me _'smile!' _was wrong. So the people who endorsed my ability to remain unseen and unheard, an ability that allowed me to overhear things and see things that no one else would have, were wrong.

But if I do not take command then…who will? Robin? He is too young and still cannot see that I made the correct decision. I did, I know I did, but the fact that he cannot understand that is clear evidence that he cannot lead this team. Not yet, at least.

_::: Aqualass, can you hear me? ::: _Miss Martian questions telepathically.

_::: Yes Miss Martian, report. :::_

_::: Artemis and I were attacked by animals wearing inhibitor collars, like those used on convicts at Belle Reve Prison. :::_

_::: Captain Marvel and I were also attacked by animals wearing the same collars, ::: _I respond. _::: Clearly, there is an intelligence behind these attacks. Captain Marvel and I- ::: _I turn to the Captain who appears distracted.

"Cool! A tiger! I'll be right back!" he shouts.

I exclaim, "Captain, wait!" He's gone before I finish the sentence. I begin trekking after Captain Marvel and order, _::: Miss Martian, I need a telepathic link with the entire Team. :::_

_::: Link established, ::: _she responds.

_::: Should she really still be giving us orders? ::: _challenges Artemis. _::: And should you really be following them? :::_

At least M'gann is actually attempting to be a professional here. More than I can say for the rest of the Team.

I am going to have to do it, aren't I?

_::: Please, listen, ::: _I state.

_::: Oh, Aqualass's voice in my head, I've so missed that, ::: _mocks Kid Flash.

_::: Hey, Kalla! KF and I were attacked by giant vultures, ::: _reports Robin. _::: Course, since we're moles you probably think we attacked ourselves. :::_

_::: If she did, she wouldn't tell you, ::: _adds Artemis, entirely unhelpfully.

I rub the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.

I am going to have to be loud. I am going to have to demand that they pay attention to me. Demand that they listen.

_::: Superboy, are you online or just…pouting? ::: _asks Miss Martian.

_::: Busy. Call back later, ::: _says Superboy.

I continue walking, the entirely unhelpful conversation of the Team running through the psychic link.

Usually, I would have shut down by now. I would have just turned completely quiet and watched or listened to the people insulting me, to the people disrespecting me. I would not have even tried to protest. I simply would have attempted to make the insults, the disrespect, roll off my skin. It rarely worked, but at least I tried.

That is not going to work here. There are bigger things at work here than the Team and I.

_::: What gets me is how nonchalant she is about not telling us, ::: _says Kid Flash.

Robin snaps, _::: She should be chalant! Way chalant! Extremely chalant! :::_

I frown, approaching a triad of metal pillars sticking out of the ground right in the path Captain Marvel traveled on. There are gorilla tracks and drag marks leading away from them. Odd. There are two indentations signalling that two individuals – I suspect Captain Marvel as one of them – were lying in the pillars. That is ominous.

I have to do it.

_::: How can we be a Team if she doesn't trust us with her secrets? ::: _asks Artemis. Ironic.

_::: Or Conner doesn't trust us to take care of ourselves, ::: _adds M'gann. She was doing so well in not contributing to the unhelpful conversation too!

_::: Did she really think you, or I, could've been the mole? ::: _snaps Kid Flash.

_::: We've known each other for years! ::: _Robin exclaims.

_::: Trust is a two-way street! ::: _Artemis adds.

_::: And you know they'd hate it if we kept secrets from them! ::: _M'gann contributes.

_::: Not that we'd do that, never, ::: _Artemis defends.

_::: Enough, ::: _I order, my protest cutting straight through theirs, a fact which encourages me immensely. I grab the nearest pillar and rip it out of the ground, unbothered by the surge of electricity that came with the rip. I explain sharply, _::: Captain Marvel has been captured and we must act as a team to save him. :::_

Kid Flash scoffs, _::: Pfft, under your leadership? I don't think so- :::_

_::: This is not up for debate! ::: _I snap. I toss the pillar to the side and continue, _::: You all chose me to lead. When the mission is over, if you wish to select a new leader I will _happily_ step down. Until that time, I am in command here. :::_

Who would not happily step down after this?

The unprofessionalism, the disregard for team members' safety, the hotheadedness that keeps on nearly getting team members killed, and the disrespect for the leader chosen are all reasons to step down. In Atlantis every single one of them would have received disciplinary action, some of them would have been taken off the team entirely.

I could return to Atlantis easily enough. I would have a job there. I know the decision I made regarding the mole was the right one and Annex would recognize that. He would not bar me from pursuing a military career in Atlantis. I refuse to remain where I am clearly not wanted. I've done that for long enough. I refuse to do it any longer. My future in Atlantis is clear; my future up here is not.

We track Captain Marvel to a complex in the middle of the jungle. It is large, technologically advanced, a fortress of sorts with pillars similar to the one I ripped out of the ground surrounding it. Superboy is approaching from the rear of the compound while the rest of the Team and I are approaching from the front.

_::: I'll fly over, ::: _Miss Martian suggests.

_::: Negatory, ::: _Kid Flash objects. _::: The field extends like a dome over the whole compound. :::_

_::: The pylons are insulated but one shock could cause a momentary gap, ::: _Robin reports.

From beside me Artemis adds, aiming at a control panel next to the main door, _::: I see a target. :::_

_::: Then be ready to hit it. Be ready, all of you, ::: _I order.

I take a moment then dart out of my hiding spot. I sprint across the clearing and send a charge down my channels. I press my hands, surging with electricity, on the dome.

_::: Okay… ::: _Kid Flash watches, _::: now! :::_

Artemis' arrow flies over my head and collides with the control panel, disabling the dome. I turn and gesture for the Team to come. They advance quickly.

A monkey shrieks, prompting alarms to go off and more monkeys to descend from the top of the compound. I whip out my water-bearers and create a couple of batons I use to block the first two monkeys that advance on me. I step backwards and fling the monkeys off me.

They're wearing the same collars as the elephants wore.

One of the monkeys leaps at me. I grab it by its fur and slam it on the ground then break the collar of its neck. It scrambles out from beneath me and darts back to the trees.

"Remove their collars!" I order.

The compound's door opens, allowing Monsieur Mallah, a gorilla with a human-level intelligence, to step out armed with a gatling gun. His red beret is distinctly out of place.

_::: Miss Martian, ::: _I prompt.

_::: Moving in in camouflage mode, ::: _she responds.

I twist, grabbing another monkey and breaking off its collar. Followed closely by a second.

Kid Flash darts past me to where Miss Martian was grabbed and flung to the ground by Monsieur Mallah.

_::: Move in. Superboy, status? ::: _I ask.

_::: Coming, ::: _Superboy responds. _::: Brought a friend. :::_

_::: Who? :::_

_::: Wolf that tried to kill me. :::_

I dart after Miss Martian as she flings Monsieur Mallah through the wall. The rest of the team follows.

"It's the Brain!" Kid Flash shouts as we see The Brain working next to Monsieur Mallah who is getting to his feet.

Artemis huffs, "I can see it's a brain."

"Not a brain, _The_ Brain."

"In the flesh, so to speak," The Brain remarks. "Mallah."

As expected, Monsieur Mallah raises a remote and the pylons that took down Captain Marvel rise from the ground and send us falling to the ground, unable to move.

_::: Miss Martian, Superboy, now, ::: _I order.

The remote flies from Mallah's hand and hovers above Miss Martian's face. She clicks a button telekinetically and the pylons switch off, allowing us to stand.

_BOOM!_

Superboy crashes into the room, flanked by a large white wolf. The wolf darts forward, tackling Mallah to the ground. The rest of the team begins battling Mallah while I move past them to get to Captain Marvel. The Brain shoots a series of bolts at me, similar to Black Manta's, which I easily block before darting out of his range and to the platform Captain Marvel is restrained on, below which a tiger is prone on the floor. I do not even wish to know what The Brain wanted to do to Captain Marvel.

"Thanks," Captain Marvel says the instant I take his collar off. "Now, one good turn deserves another." He removes the collar on the tiger. The tiger rises and turns to face Mallah, growling lowly.

I create two swords and stand behind the tiger, beside Captain Marvel, just daring Mallah to try and attack us. Mallah turns to see Superboy and the wolf standing there.

"Try it," Superboy challenges, cracking his knuckles. "I hate monkeys."

Mallah snarls.

"No Mallah," says The Brain as extensions rise from his metal, rolling body. "This will not be our Waterloo." The extensions glow red and he sneers verbally, "Au revoir."

"Get down!" Kid Flash shouts.

I tense and prep to form a shield. The lights go out. In an instant, the lights return and The Brain and Mallah are gone. I raise an eyebrow and glance at Captain Marvel. He returns my raised eyebrow.

"Wait, that big weapon thing was a lightswitch?" Kid Flash asks.

Admittedly, it is clever. I will have to remember that.

"Spread out," I say, sheathing my weapons. "They are likely gone, but do a sweep. Robin-"

"Got it," Robin says, plugging his wrist computer into the nearest computer. "Info dump."

I was correct they were gone. There was a fair amount of information though, including a couple references to a 'Cliff Caulder,' whose name rings a vague bell in the back of my mind. Niles Caulder was The Brain, but Cliff Caulder…I know nothing of him. Why is his name ringing a bell?

The name nags at the back of my mind as we free the rest of the animals, return to the Bio-Ship, the Team quiet save for Kid Flash's gathering of his souvenir – Mallah's beret.

"That's the last of the collars?" Captain Marvel asks the tiger that had apparently latched himself onto the Captain. The tiger growls. Captain Marvel crouches next to him, "And I can count on you to keep the other animals out of trouble?" Another growl. "Good," he rubs the tiger's back, who in turn purrs…or something, "I'll be back for a visit. Promise."

The tiger bounds off. Captain Marvel grins, "I think I'll call him Mr. Tawny."

Captain Marvel reminds me of Ataxe. Bizarre.

"What are you still doing here?" Superboy asks the wolf. "The rest of the pack is gone."

"I think he wants to stay with you," Miss Martian says.

"Can I keep him?" Superboy asks, excited.

Kid Flash laughs, "First the Sphere, now this beast? Dude, you sure make a habit of collecting strays."

"Maybe it's because he's such a stray himself," Miss Martian grins.

"Well, he's gonna need a name – how about Krypto?" Kid Flash suggests.

"Pass," says Superboy.

Miss Martian nods, "Besides, isn't that taken?"

Robin asks as I head up the Bio-Ship's entry ramp, "Look, I need to know, why did you keep the mole intel a secret?"

Is it really not obvious?

I turn, looking at the rest of the Team whose attention was drawn by the conversation. All of them seem similarly confused to know. I lick my lips and explain, "The source of the tip was Sportsmaster."

"What?" exclaims Artemis, stepping back in shock. "You can't trust him!"

"I do not," I assure her. "It seemed possible, even likely, that he was attempting to divide the Team with false information."

"And given how this mission went, he nearly succeeded," says Robin. "But you had to consider it might be true."

"Yes," I confirm, "as leader I did. In which case, I did not wish to alert the traitor."

Robin sighs, "I hate to say it, but makes sense."

"I am still prepared to step down."

"All in favour of keeping Aqualass as leader?" Kid Flash prompts, raising his hand.

The rest of the Team raise their hands. That is good, but…this is so difficult. I do not know if I can continue doing this.

"Guess it's unanimous," says Captain Marvel, patting my shoulder and shaking my hand. "See you tomorrow."

He strides away. I frown, "You're not coming back with us?"

"Nah, gotta fly," he says and does just that.

"So," says M'gann as the Team, plus the wolf, climbs into the Bio-Ship, "what are you gonna call him?"

"What's wrong with Wolf?" asks Superboy.

"Generic, but acceptable," Kid Flash relents.

I follow them into the Bio-Ship. Sometimes, I really do miss just patrolling, with Annex, with Roy, whomever. This is more difficult. Exciting, but likely amongst the most challenging things I have undertaken.

* * *

**Sender: **aquamirage  
**Date: **Fri, 24 September 2010 18:32:16 -0300  
**From: **Tula [A'aiad]  
**Organization: **Angelia Graphikos  
**To: **knightlight  
**Subject: **Hi!

Kalla,

Garth and I decided that we should all probably get an email chain…thing going, so that we avoid unfortunate events like before. Here it is!

Topo is basically recovered, but he will have those scars for the rest of his life, unfortunately. Sha'ark is treating him better though, feeling indebted to Topo for having saved his life. La'gaan, however, has just been getting angrier, although his idolization of you has skyrocketed simultaneously. Blubber is joining him in that idolization now too.

Ronal has been ostracized from our part of the Conservatory, with all of our friends and stuff, but the knowledge of his loyalties to the Purists have caused more Conservatory Purists to show themselves. Lori, Garth and I are keeping track of their names. I've attached our most recent list and, Kalla, it's frightening how long it is. There are a lot of horrible people in the Conservatory that I didn't know about.

As you know, Garth and I have been training privately with Anassa Mera for a few months now because we have been advancing so quickly in our sorcery training. She is saying now that I may be graduating from the Conservatory early. By the end of next year even! Garth is still struggling with the spontaneity part of combat sorcery, but he is getting better and once he gets better at it he will likely join me in graduating early. Regardless, he still can't beat me.

I, however, am getting the sense from Anassa that she doesn't feel she can teach me much more about combat sorcery. I still wish to learn though. I know that your matim is dominantly self-trained in combat sorcery and knows some surface-world sorcery, so I was hoping that perhaps you would give me permission to ask her to train me in her version of combat sorcery. Or, perhaps, one of your Aqualass trainers could start training me. I merely wish to learn more and…well I know that you have some contacts.

Let me know what you think!

How is the Team going? Anything exciting happening that Garth and I are allowed to know about? We saw some footage of you in Taiwan with Speedy! He's looking good in his new uniform. Please, remind Garth that while I may look – as he does as well – I do not touch.

*hugs*

~Tula

(& Garth)

oOoOo

**Sender: **knightlight  
**Date: **Sat, 25 September 2010 08:16:23 -0400  
**From: **Kalladura'ham D  
**Organization: **Angelia Graphikos  
**To: **aquamirage  
**Subject: Re: **Hi!

Tula (& Garth _– really Tula? Really?_),

I am glad to hear of Topo and Sha'ark. Sha'ark really is not that bad, but he would benefit from Topo's friendship. I would not worry about La'gaan. I am happy for him and Blubber!

I almost believe that charging Ronal would have lessened this backlash from the Conservatory Purists. This is ridiculous. I have sent your list to Annex and Anassa, hopefully they will be able to do something about this. The Purist doctrine needs to end alongside Ocean Master.

Garth, for your combat sorcery, I would suggest recording a few matches where you just act on instinct. Watch those matches after and see what your tendencies are then consciously work to change those in your next matches. That may help.

Tula, my matim would likely be honoured to train you. I suggest you contact her yourself. Her email is _sla_jc_ and she's with Angelia Graphikos as well. If you do wind up training under her she will likely make you work in the shop though. You will have to go to her. If you do wind up working in the shop, let me know, because there will be something I would like you to do while you are there.

Lots of things have happened with the Team, very little of which I can actually tell you. Everyone is well.

_-We saw some footage of you in Taiwan with Speedy! He's looking good in his new uniform. Please, remind Garth that while I may look – as he does as well – I do not touch._

First, it is Red Arrow, not Speedy. Second, Garth, stop it. You are reinforcing a double standard. If you two have agreed that looking is okay then I suggest you abide by that agreement. If it makes you uncomfortable, let Tula know and you two can revamp your agreement.

By the way, I am not your Couples' Counsellor.

I would like your opinions on something. Recently, Annex made me aware that he and Anassa wanted me to be their child's Patrōna. What do you two think?

Thanks, for the hugs too,  
Kalla

* * *

**Star City, California : September 27, 2010 – 10:26 PDT**

"Hello Roy," I greet with a small wave as Roy opens the door in a pair of grease-stained jeans and a red t-shirt.

"Kalla, hey, what are you doing here?" Roy asks, holding open the door for me.

"Visiting you," I say.

I can _hear_ him rolling his eyes, "You're getting sassier."

"It is genetic," I remark. "I…also wished to apologize for what I said before."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Um. Okay?"

"You look less stressed."

"I am," I shrug, rubbing the back of my neck as I glance at his coffe table where he has all of his supplies for making arrows set up. "The Team has been dealing with Kobra-Venom enhanced animals, along with Ultra-Humanite, The Brain, and Monsieur Mallah. Got captured a couple of times but turned it to our advantage. There was a telepathic…er…_tribe_ of gorillas at one point."

"A telepathic tribe of gorillas," Roy repeats, returning to his seat at the coffee table. He picks up a shaft for a future arrow. "I should be surprised by that shouldn't I?"

"We teamed up with them and saved their children from The Brain's experimentations, then destroyed the 'Gorilla City.' It was…interesting."

"What else happened?"

"The Team…they found out about the mole issue," I say. "It put my leadership into question, that I withheld that information from them."

"What? But you had to-"

"I know, and once they learned that they seemed to, once again, support me as the Team's leader."

"You're still off."

"I know," I sigh, sinking to the floor next to him. I grab a shaft and begin helping him create more arrows. "Being leader is simply…difficult. I am sure I will adapt, eventually, at the moment however it is challenging."

"There might still be a mole."

I frown at him, "Don't ruin this Roy."

"Shutting up."

"Annex recently asked me if I would be willing to be his child's Patrōna. A…sort of guardian," I say.

"Do you want to?"

"I do not know. I have the Team to concern myself with now, and my duties as Aqualass, but it would be a great honour and both himself and Anassa want me to be their child's Patrōna."

"You still have a few months before you need to decide."

"I am aware."

"Then stop stressing about it. Whatever you decide to do they'll be fine with." He looks pointedly at the arrow shaft in my hand, "Are you going to do something with that or just sit there?"

"Right, apologies," I say, grabbing the knife on the table. "What kind is this one going to be?"

"Foam."

I stare at the arrow shaft.

"You don't remember how to make one do you?"

"Ah…no."

"Then stop making it look like you're going to help me make new arrows."

I set the knife and arrow shaft down, "What would you like me to do?"

"I don't care, just don't touch my arrows."

"Got it."

* * *

**A/N: **I dreamed a dream of living in a world where the default pronouns were not the male ones.

What am I doing with Tula? Why did I include Pansy's email? _Only I know._

I'm just going to take this moment to say in lieu of the most recent ep. I WAS RIGHT. KALDUR IS THE BIGGEST THREAT. THIS IS SO SATISFYING.

**Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows.**


	29. Sha'lain'a 7

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, discussion of discrimination**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Sha'lain'a**

"_Freedom is hammered out on the anvil of discussion, dissent, and debate."_

Hubert H. Humphrey

* * *

**7**

**Shayeris, Atlantis : September 20, 2010 – 08:16 UTC-03**

I look up sharply from Chevy's email, detailing the fact that absolutely nothing of note has been occurring in the Dashti investigation, which is more than a little frustrating. I stare at the man across the counter, "What did you just…"

"Sha'lain'a?" he ventures.

"Say that again," I order, closing my email on my tablet.

Coci leans past the anklet display and glances at me behind the counter, looking at the pure man with the red hair in disbelief. He says that his name is Hai'lain. I'm not sure I believe that.

"Ah, I was wondering if you would be willing to be interviewed for an article I'm writing about the effect Purists have, at a more personal level, on individuals," he repeats with a hint of anxiety.

"Yes, that's what I thought you said," I say, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Why me?"

"Well," he glances down at his tablet, "first, I heard that you've been working on locating the people who attacked Je'ria. Second, you're the matim of Aqualass who is the first, ah, _'impure'_ Champion Atlantis has had in centuries since the Purist doctrine took hold. Not to mention the effect that being blonde must have on both of your experiences in Atlantis. I also have a source that told me you were raised by people who believed in the Curse of Kordax, and now, despite being impure, associate with Purists."

"A source," I repeat with a raised eyebrow.

"My apologies, but I cannot give you my source."

"What else did this _source_ tell you?"

He frowns but relents, "That you lived on the surface-world, and that you were the one who gave your daughter her prosthetic channels. That you have attacked soldiers of Atlantis, that you are not, truly, a woman named Sha'lain'a."

He's challenging me. He's actually challenging me. Idiot.

"Join me in the back," I say. "Ladies," I call to my employees, "I'll be in the back."

They nod and I lead Hai'lain into the back room. Any hint of anxiety he had before is now gone. He truly believes that he has one up on me.

"What do you want?" I ask as I pull up my IM on my tablet. I turn back around to face Hai'lain and look up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"An interview."

"On what?"

"Your experiences with Purists."

"That will never be published. What do you really want to write about?"

For a moment, he doesn't respond. When he does, he does so with a look that dares me to back out, "Aqualass' matim. The woman whom Aqualass has consistently credited for turning her into the who she is today."

"You're willing to give good press to Aqualass, to the most prominent impure individual in Atlantis," I say, surprised.

"No, I'm willing to give good press to the _second_ most prominent impure individual in Atlantis. I think," he hands me his tablet, "you're going to need it."

The file open on the tablet contains a series of photographs and transcripts from a couple of familiar names, my patera and his 'best friend', both of whom are apparently speaking to the high executives at Angelia Graphikos and a team of pure lawyers and high ranking soldiers. The name of Kor'dia'ax shows up a lot, along with Kalladura'ham and Calvin.

Shit.

He does have on up on me.

I shouldn't have made that decision so quickly. Shit.

"Wh-where did you get all of this?" I ask, having to clench my hands against the tablet to keep them from shaking.

"My source."

"Your source," I repeat. "You need to tell me your source."

"I can't."

"This information could destroy my daughter _you jackass_. You need to tell me your source."

He refuses.

**12:14 UTC-03**

"I made a terrible mistake," I say the instant I sit across from Je'ria for our, now, usual lunch.

Je'ria looks at me warily, "Should I be frightened?"

"I am about to be targeted by extremely powerful people who are going to rip my name apart, tear my daughter's name apart, and destroy anyone who associates with me. You probably should not be around me."

"Purists."

"Your family has suffered enough. I am not trying to tell you what to do, but I do not believe that you should associate with me any longer."

Je'ria sighs, "You offered to try and find the people who did this," she gestures to the brace for her right arm fin, "to me. You have not, which is not surprising, but you still made the offer. The military said that they would do something, but they have done nothing. You have done more for me, for my family, than they have. Your family has saved my family, Sha'lain'a. I do not care what people think of me or think of my family. You, your husband and your daughter gave my family our lives back. With a few bumps, of course," she gestures to her still healing gills, "but you have given my family our lives back."

"I think you are making a mistake."

"I do not care. Something is coming, Sha'lain'a, something big. A clash."

I rub the bridge of my nose, "You feel it too."

"I think that everyone is beginning to feel it. I suspect your daughter has known about this coming for quite some time."

"She helped cause it," I sigh. "That does not mean she is aware of it."

"I just hope that the casualties will be few."

I stare at my food, "If Orin does not do something soon we may be looking at a war."

"You think so?"

"Riots, at the very least. Not here," I gesture around us, "not in Shayeris. We seem to have found a better balance than other city-states, but…the violence is escalating."

"What does your daughter know?"

"She spends her time on the surface, usually, and there are limits to what she can tell me. I do not think she knows much. Orin is trying to protect her."

Je'ria snorts, "_Protect_. Hah! Where was he when those children broke her bones?"

"She cannot do anything from where she is. I must do something."

"_We_ must do something. All of us," Je'ria corrects. "Start with the king and his forces?"

"Agreed."

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : September 30, 2010 – 07:32 UTC-03**

Tula yawns.

"Yes, I know, it is early," I say, leading her into the shop. "But you were the one who wished to spend part of your final year being trained by me – which, by the way, still sounds ridiculous."

"Kalla said that you're one of the best, you gave her her channels," Tula argues. "I do not think I could do that."

"I would not call myself one of the best, self-taught as I am," I say. "Tula, this is Coci."

"Hello," Coci smiles, waving softly at Tula. "It is nice to meet you."

"Yeah, hi," Tula responds. "You just moved here right?"

"A few months ago, ah, after the spill. You are from Poseidonis?"

"Yeah, for part of my last year at the Conservatory I'm being trained by Sha'lain'a though," Tula explains. "I'm a quick learner, and I've accelerated through my combat sorcery classes pretty quickly, so I'm hoping this will be more of a challenge."

"I see."

"You do sorcery?"

"Small sorcery," Coci answers. "Small charms, mostly."

"Like glamour charms?"

"Those can be small, so, yes. We need to help produce some of the products, so I know how to do most of those charms."

"Excellent, I'll be working here as well," Tula grins. "It will be nice to work with you, Coci."

"Likewise, Tula."

Tula follows me to the back of the shop where I give her the basic rundown of the shop's operations and start listing off the various products.

"Except for during holidays, I take off a day a week. My second, Andina, will be coming in soon. Two others will be here today working on some of the products. There are generally at least four people in the shop, two for out in the main area and two working on products, be that inventory or production. I'm thinking I'll put you in with the products, preferably on production, so that you can get a chance to practice some basic charms and such. If you do wind up on the floor interacting with customers and you get a particularly nasty one, shuffle that person over to your floor manager, myself, or Andina. If the person is a Purist, they're automatically thrown out but it must be either I or Andina.

"For tech, I generally get Calvin to help out with it if necessary, but I do have a contract with a specialist. You will likely be meeting her as well. I have information on all of the basic things we use for day-to-day operations, just in case we run out of something anyone can stop by the necessary shop and get the right thing.

"Let's see…I'll cover duties and such when I have your information in the system…oh! Harassment policy. If you feel like you're being harassed, I do not care how, physically, sexually, emotionally, whatever - if you feel like you're being harassed, notify either I or Andina as soon as possible. We'll need to know the person who was doing the harassing, what was done, and the date it was done. The perpetrator will receive one warning for verbal harassment and if it occurs a second time they're fired. For anything physical, be it touching or hitting, anything like that, the perpetrator will likely be fired immediately. If you feel like you're being harassed, inappropriately treated, etcetera, by Andina or myself let us know. You are welcome to talk to either of us. If it is a customer who is behaving inappropriately, get yourself out of the situation, either with help or not, and notify Andina or myself or your floor manager immediately. We will deal with that person."

"Should I be taking notes?" Tula asks.

"I will give you a package," I assure her. "For now, however, you think you know your way around this place?"

"Perhaps?"

"You'll get there," I say. "I do wish to test your skills thus far though, so for the morning we will head to the training fields and during afternoon I will start officially training you for your new job."

"You move quickly."

"Of course I do. Let's go. Have a good morning, Coci!" I call as we leave the shop.

Tula and I take over one of the empty training fields meant for individuals not with the military. I had tied my hair back that morning into its usual spiked braid and now hover opposite Tula in the small field. I had foregone my wraps and opted to simply wear a beaded bracelet, my usual anklets over a single footless stocking that reaches up to just below my kneecap, a pair of shorts and one of my midriff baring sleeveless shirts. Tula is wearing a small wrap around her hips over a pair of shorts, and with her short hair and lack of any jewellery the wrap is the only thing I can conceivably use to my advantage. Against me, she can conceivably use my jewellery and braid to her advantage, which is purposefully done. I wish to see how easily she can pick out her opponent's disadvantages.

I dart forward, snapping out a collection of small magical bursts that explode in front of her face in showers of light. She shouts in surprise and instinctively moves backwards, simultaneously managing to summon a shield to block my front advance despite the fact that her vision should be spotty now.

So she can multitask and think under pressure. Good.

She reels forward as one of my constructs collides with her back. She flips through the water, ready to send her feet into my face.

"I thought this would be a magic only fight!" she exclaims, righting herself as I dodge and get behind her.

"Assumptions will get you killed," I retort, snapping out my foot.

She turns and narrowly manages to block my foot, grabbing it with her hand and instead of pulling me forward like most do, she lurches forward. I block her fist and punch her in the jaw. She lurches back and twists, pressing a hand against the ground and flipping over to avoid my second punch.

_FWIP! FWIP! FWIP!_

I flung up my hands, summoning a quick shield to block the series of construct bolts she launches at me. A bright, pulsing sphere arcs over my head and my eyes widen in recognition. I turn sharply, bringing my shield with me in a crouch just in time to block the sphere's explosion.

I sense Tula's approach and spin sharply, simultaneously pulling out the small hidden dagger tucked into my stocking. Tula freezes, the dagger hovering an inch from her face.

I dart beneath her arms and shoot up as she turns, slamming my elbow into her side. She crashes down and I put the dagger between my teeth as I rip up her wrap and use it to gather her hands together behind her back. Water-constructs rise around us, wrapping around Tula's legs, back and throat to pin her to the ground. I take my dagger back into my hand and swim over to her head.

"There was no mention of weapons," Tula says, struggling against her restraints. She spits out some dirt that had gotten into her mouth.

"What did I say?" I ask, crouching at her head with the dagger spinning in my left hand.

"Assumptions will get you killed," Tula reiterates. "Did you tie my hands behind my back with my wrap?"

"Yes. Did you notice my disadvantages?"

"The jewellery?" she asks, struggling to keep her head up with the construct keeping her throat against the ground.

"Yes. Why did you not use it?"

"A bracelet and anklets?" she repeats, puzzled.

"Ripping off an accessory, in particular when it is something that could conceivably cut them while being ripped, may give you an opening. Anything else?"

"Your hair would be, but you put spikes in it so," Tula stops and spits out some dirt from her mouth. She continues, "So, that disadvantage was basically taken off the table."

"Mera said that you were good at being unpredictable," I say, rising and removing the water-constructs.

Tula shoots up and twists, hooking her legs behind mine to try and get me unbalanced. I go with the hit and flip over, landing lightly on the ground then pushing off and twisting over her, wrapping my fingers in her short hair and slamming her back to the ground. My knee digs into the small of her back, my hand pulls her hair, and my dagger hovers at her throat. Tula stills.

"Good," I say as I tighten my grip on her hair. She winces. "That would work better on the surface though."

I sheathe my dagger and release her. She falls to the ground, huffing, then takes my hand and stands.

"Let's get something for your jaw," I say, inspecting the hit. "That will bruise."

She rubs her jaw, wincing, "You hit hard."

"You were warned before coming here that you would swim away with bruises, bumps and scrapes."

She nods, "I know. That is why I came. I wish to learn. If Kalla can do this, so can I."

I pause, considering her, "Do you wish to do what she does?"

Tula shrugs, "Garth and I have spoken of it. I know he sometimes thinks about what would have happened if he had agreed to Annex's offer. He doesn't tell Kalla about it, he knows that if she knew she would do whatever it took to get him a chance to at least try it, and he doesn't want to distract her from her job. It's important, and we know that. I…the more Garth speaks of it and the more I hear of what Kalla does as Aqualass the more I want to be a part of it." Tula sighs, "She…Aqualass just brings so much hope to people, especially those with, uh, gills...and she makes people happy. She represents so much good and has helped Atlantis so much...I do not think that I would mind being a part of that."

"You have not told Kalladura'ham, have you?"

"No. For the same reasons as Garth, and I do not believe that I am ready yet to…take a position beside her." Tula shakes her head, "I do not wish to tell her until I am certain. Apologies, but if you would not tell Kalla of this-"

I shake my hand nonchalantly, "It is no problem. I won't tell your secret, or Garth's. What do you think your name would be?"

"She is Aqualass, so taking a name like that, 'Aquagirl' or something, might be confusing for people," Tula ventures. "Garth has thrown around a couple of names, 'Aqualad' and 'Tempest' in particular. I am not sure which one he wishes to choose, but I am partial to 'Tempest' myself."

"For yourself or him?"

"Truthfully, I am not sure."

* * *

**Shayeris, Atlantis : October 5, 2010 – 19:42 UTC-03**

"My King – Arnis, my apologies," I say diplomatically, putting every ounce of Aspasia's training to good use to make Arnis like me even more than he already does.

Arnis waves his hand, signalling his acceptance of my apology.

"I was wondering if you heard of the attack a few weeks ago on one of Shayeris' newest residents," I inquire, setting down my fork to put all my attention on the leader of Shayeris, which he likes. Beside me, Tula pauses in picking up a shrimp.

"Yes, yes I have," he confirms, nodding. "It is unfortunate, quite a tragedy that, and when Shayeris prides itself on being accepting of all."

"I hope that those who harmed her will receive punishment fitting the crime," I say. I can sense Tula stiffening.

He responds after a moment and nods, "As do we all."

My eyes flick to Calvin. He caught the clip in Arnis' voice as well. The hesitation.

"There may be a group of Purists working within Shayeris," Calvin remarks. "I'm concerned for my family, _we_ are concerned for our daughter."

At 'daughter', Arnis' eyes flick to Calvin's, alarm passing through them for an instant. Arnis glances at me, "I am certain that Kalladura'ham will be fine. Her skills are great."

I resist the want to take my fork and plunge it into his hand to make him tell me what he knows. This is infuriating. People are blocking me, making it near impossible for me to find Je'ria's attackers, to fight against the Purists.

My eyes pass across Arnis' personal guard, a group of men and women, all pure and all without readable expressions. They are simply watching us, sensing the tension in the room rising.

I force the tension in my shoulders to disappear and laugh lightly, "Indeed. Recently, someone was regaling me of the tale of her facing Black Manta for the first time! It is quite a story!"

"Oh, yes, quite an exciting battle that!" Arnis agrees, latching onto the topic change immediately.

**23:56 UTC-03**

"We can't go in there. We can't break into Arnis' place and get information on him, nor can we search for intel on the soldiers," argues Calvin. "We already have that information on what Angelia Graphikos is trying to do to you, to us, to Kalladura'ham. We have to deal with that. We cannot risk another explosion of actions against us."

"We need to do something, Cal," I say, resting my forehead against my fisted hands. "Arnis knows exactly who attacked Je'ria. He knows exactly who the Purists are. He could very well _be_ one. Which is a whole other kind of infuriating since he has _been in my home and I did not realize it_."

Calvin glances at one of the windows.

"The spells will hold," I say. "It's a surface-world spell, so that people outside cannot hear what we do not want them to. Sorcerers here will not be able to break it."

"He will have agents on us now. He knows that we suspect something is up. He will likely be informed of what is happening with you as well, of what you did to your patera and his friend."

"Dammit."

"We are becoming enemies of the State, Sha'lain'a." He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, "Again."

"We cannot put Kalladura'ham in that position," I sigh. "Poseidon, we just _cannot_. That would destroy her. She trusts these people. She trusts Orin."

"You don't?" he asks, looking down at me as I clench my hands into fists against the table.

I shake my head, "I used to, but now…I am beginning to wonder how much he knows about what is going on, how much he does nothing to prevent, to at least _mitigate_."

"It may not be Orin."

"Who else? Mera? She is powerful, she would be able to hide her tracks well that is true, but-"

"There are plenty of individuals with the power able to orchestrate this," he finishes.

"We sound like conspiracy theorists."

Calvin tightens his hands into fists, "When the oppressed start rising up against their oppressors, the oppressors get scared. The oppressors already have power, in all sects of society, with the connections they have they would be able to do something large to keep the oppressed down. The oppressed do not have the same power, the same organization, that the oppressors have, and the oppressors take advantage of that."

"So we get organized. We get power."

"The only power we have comes in people like Kalladura'ham and King Sha'ark, and they are children. Brave, talented and skilled children, but still children. All the adults who came before them were brought down before they could establish themselves, because of that damn doctrine."

"And Orin endorsed Kalladura'ham," I point out.

"You think we could use that?"

"I think that if Orin is against us, we can use that against him, turn his own people against him for the fact that he dared to support someone impure and give her the power she has now. Besides, you and I both know what children can do when pressed."

He crosses his arms, "David."

"You. Me. I've fought against soldiers before. I can do it again. You've fought against them too."

"On the wrong side," he points out.

"Then this will be a brand new experience, and those are always fun," I smirk.

"How could we possibly become organized in time to oppose them trying to take you down?"

"I will need to call in some old favours."

"What favours?"

"Aspasia knows people."

"You hate her. Does she even owe you any favours?"

"She does not, and I do hate her, but she's one of us," I trace my fingers through my hair. "She always had to watch her webbing when she grabbed my hair and inspected my spikes. She will help. She is one of us and most of her employees are too. If she doesn't help, she'll be shoved even more underground than she already is. More than that, her business gets her in contact with plenty of powerful people, and I know that she's expanded it to encompass part of the Mediterranean and central and south Atlantic. She covers nearly four timezones with her people, and that's partly because of whom her business's customers are. They want their favourites nearby so they pay to help expand Aspasia's reach. Plus, I'm willing to bet that some of the customers have favourites that would not go over well with the Purists."

"Contact her and your entire past in Atlantis will come out," Calvin warns. "Your name, your work, the names of the soldiers you killed…"

"Those soldiers were way out of their jurisdiction. They were out of control. I was defending myself against a group of rogues," I point out. "Even Orin and Mera recognize that the behaviour of Atlantis' soldiers in the late 80's, early 90's, was reprehensible. I'll just have to use my past to our advantage. Explain how people tried to destroy me because of what I was born as."

Calvin swims over to me and silently hugs me tightly. I clench my eyes shut and wrap my arms around him, "I need to do something about this, Cal. I've spent so much time hiding, I think it's time to be loud, time to start screaming, time to be heard." I pull away, "They will grab at my time on the surface-world, they will dig into that part of my life. They could find you, Cal. Find your past too. I understand if you cannot do that."

"I've made peace with my past," he says, brushing a thumb over my cheek. "I will commit to this, but only if we tell Kalladura'ham of our plans before we begin. She needs to decide whether to distance herself from us or not. She needs to decide where she stands."

"We are her parents, Calvin," I say, gripping his wrists.

"She'll be an adult officially next year, Sha'lain'a. She's been an adult since she became Aqualass. She can make this decision. Speaking of parents though…if your time on the surface-world comes out, Kalladura'ham's birth-father may come out as well."

"We hid well then, until I froze him to the dock that is," I point out with the hint of a smirk at the memory. "But it is a possibility, that is true. I may have to tell her who he is."

"Are you ready to do that?"

"No, and I do not think that she is ready to know," I sigh. "I agree though, we will not act until we speak to her. At least about the possible consequences of our actions."

He kisses me lightly then wraps his arms tightly around me, "Doing this may kill us."

I chuckle with my head against his shoulder, "Honestly, Calvin, I thought I would die when I was a child. This is more life than I ever believed I would have. It is a blessing, this."

"And this needs to be done."

I nod, "And this needs to be done."

"What needs to be done?" Tula asks, appearing in the main room, the bandage on her arm shining in the low light. "Because if it's about fighting the Purists, I want in."

"You are supposed to be sleeping," I remark with a frown, pulling away from Calvin.

"Not tired. Besides, I was at the dinner too, I saw everything, heard everything," she points out. "Respectfully, if you are planning on fighting the Purists, I want in."

"Your parents-"

"Would be proud of me. My guardians, on the other hand, just want me to be one of the best sorceresses in Atlantis. If I go about doing that by fighting Purists, then so be it."

"Your guardians are the A'aidas," Calvin says slowly.

Tula raises an eyebrow, "Yes, they are."

"Deina A'aida is second-in-command of Angelia Graphikos's Poseidonis office," he states.

"What?" I look sharply at Calvin, my eyes widening.

"I conferred with her to learn some specifics about some of their products," he explains.

"Yes, my adopted matim is with Angelia Graphikos," Tula confirms. "Is that important?"

I ask quickly, "Is she a Purist?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then it may be an advantage."

"So I'm in?"

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"We will need to speak to your parents."

Tula frowns, "Even if they say no, I still want in, especially if it involves taking down the Purists. I am _done_ watching those creeps get out of everything simply because of how they look."

I smirk, "I suspected as much."

* * *

**A/N: **If you ever have a choice between writing the lead-up to a possible-maybe civil war and not, _don't_. It's difficult.

I have a headcanon for how Kaldur came up with the mole plan. It heavily involves his mother.

**Thanks!**


	30. Kalladura'ham 23

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

___Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 114: Revelation._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive."_

Audre Lorde

* * *

**23**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 1, 2010 – 18:13 EDT**

"Hi-yah!"

I dart to the side and retaliate with a sharp jab. Robin dodges and moves in for a series of jabs. I block and move forward to snap up my own fists. He darts backward. I dart forward, my muscles tight from the paranoia of accidentally hitting him with too much strength and breaking his ribs. I really do prefer sparring with Conner. At least he can take my hits.

Robin's hand comes up in a move to slam the heel of his hand against my nose. I step backwards and move quickly to avoid his advance, his leg snaps down an instant after I'm arching backwards into a back handspring. I land and move into a defensive position, my civilian sandals not exactly made for sparring but doing their job decently enough for the moment. At least I have not slipped yet.

We nod and move out of our combat positions, allowing the computer to turn off the sparring program just as Conner and M'gann walk into the room with Wolf beside them.

Robin walks to me, smirking, "You know they're a couple, right?"

"I am well aware," I say, turning from the pair.

Artemis and Wally walk in through the opposite entry. Robin whispers, "Should we tell them?"

"It…is not our place," I advise.

"So if Zatara is our babysitter for the week, then why is he still here?" Wally asks, gesturing to Captain Marvel standing beside Zatara. Wally stops next to Robin and I and frowns, "And why is he eating my snacks?"

/ Recognized, Batman 02. /

"Computer, national news," Batman orders immediately, striding into the room.

Cat Grant appears on the holographic screen framed by the GBS logo in Metropolis, /"The initial attack was short-lifted, but Metropolis was only granted a short reprieve,"/ in her pause there are clips of entire buildings being crushed by, of all things, serpentine plants, /"and despite the intervention of Superman, and the Justice League, there seems to be no end in sight."/ Clips of Hawkman, Hawkwoman, Superman and the Green Lantern John Stewart battling the plant creatures are displayed before Batman pauses the clip.

"Should we get out there?" asks Robin.

"No," answers Batman, turning to face us. "The League will soon have the situation under control, that's not why I'm here. According to your intel, Sportsmaster supplied Cadmus Blockbuster formula to Kobra."

"Who combined it with Bane's Venom to create Kobra-Venom," says Wally.

Robin picks up, "Which the Brain used to create his animal army."

"And upgrade Wolf," says Conner.

"The Brain also used inhibitor collars on the animals, like the ones at Belle Reve Penitentiary," says M'gann.

It's a villainous team-up of some sort. At the very least they're sharing resources, which is, for us, rather inconvenient.

"Batman," ventures Artemis, "is it possible that those plant-thingies are on Kobra-Venom too?"

"I had Green Lantern run a spot analysis," says Batman, pulling up a holographic depiction of the results, "the fine cellulose does contain trace amounts of the Kobra-Venom variant."

"These cannot be coincidences," I say, crossing my arms, "unrelated criminals cooperating with one-another worldwide."

At least it has not spread to Atlantis.

"Exactly," Batman agrees. "It's now clear that our enemies have formed some kind of…secret society of supervillains. The attack on Metropolis is only the beginning."

"Got that right," says Robin, pulling up more news clips. "The plant creatures have sprouted in Gotham City, Paris, Star City, Taipei-"

The clips turn to static.

"Dude!" Wally says, nudging Robin.

"It's not me! Someone's cutting the satellite signals, _all_ satellite signals."

The Joker appears onscreen, his numbing grin stretched wide across the screens. He taps the camera and sneers, "Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt your regularly scheduled mayhem to bring you this important announcement," he snaps out a switchblade then turns the camera to face a group of other supervillains, "from the _In_justice League."

Ultra-Humanite, Poison Ivy, Count Vertigo, Atomic Skull, Black Adam and Wotan are standing like they're ready for a photoshoot. Their smirks are practically dripping with slime.

Count Vertigo speaks, "We are responsible for the attacks on your cities. If you wish to save them, a ransom of 10 billion American dollars is required. Delivery instructions have been sent to the United Nations. There is no time limit, but, the longer your governments wait-"

"The more we get to have our jollies!" Joker laughs, turning the camera back to him.

"Roger that Aquaman," says Batman, his hand to his cowl, "the UN will prepare the ransom as a fall-back, but it won't come to that."

"The Joker, Count Vertigo, Ultra-Humanite, Poison Ivy, Atomic Skull, Black Adam, Wotan – _seven_ heavy hitters, probably behind everything and everyone we face," determines Robin.

"There's your secret society," Wally says.

"Not so secret anymore," comments Artemis.

"Perhaps…perhaps after India they saw that we would deduce the truth and saw no point in hiding anymore," I suggest.

Something about this isn't right though. Hiring Sportsmaster, maybe Bane, certainly. The Brain does not seem like one to take orders though, nor does Kobra. And who at the Penitentiary would be involved? Perhaps no one, I suppose they could have reverse-engineered the collars. The Brain though…that doesn't sit right with me.

"Yeah? That was their mistake! Right now, I say we go kick some plant creature butt!" Wally declares.

Batman smashes that idea immediately, "The Justice League will handle the plants. I have a different job for this team."

What job? The only other jobs here would be clean-up or looking into the Injustice League. The latter seems unlikely and the former, well, there are actual companies that do that now.

"With the plants attacking so many locations simultaneously there must be a central control system," Batman explains, "your mission is to destroy it."

Destroy…

He must be jesting.

"You realize what you're really asking them to do," prods Zatara.

"They're ready," he says.

He must be jesting.

"Ready?" Wally repeats, confused. "Ready for what? Ow!"

Artemis jabs him. She frowns at him, "_Hello_ Wally, if the big guns are fighting plants, who do you think we'll be fighting?"

"I don't know! I guess-" he stops and looks in the direction she's pointing. Right at the image of the Injustice League. "Oh."

Batman must be jesting.

"Well, Batman, I trust you're correct," says Zatara.

"I trust you can locate the enemy," Batman retorts.

"Indeed," Zatara confirms. "Wotan's involvement suggests sorcery is involved in how the plants are controlled. Robin, if you would provide a holo-map. I'll search for signs of concentrated sorcery." He steps up to the holo-map and declares, "Etacol retnecipe fo yrecros!"

There's a moment, then a marker appears in the southern United States. Zatara lets his hands fall to his sides, "There. That is where you will find the plant's central control system."

Okay, we're doing this. Okay. How in the name of Poseidon are we supposed to beat Wotan? I am nowhere near that man's league in sorcery.

"Coordinates locked," says Robin. "The Louisiana Bayou."

"We are on our way," I say. I make a hand-signal and the Team heads out of the room to change into our uniforms.

The instant I have my uniform on, which takes no time at all considering I am already wearing my uniform beneath my civvies, I stop by Wally's souvenir room and then get to the hanger early. Wolf, Superboy and M'gann are there, ready in uniform and waiting for the others who do not change quite as quickly as a Martian with organic clothing, a Kryptonian who wears his civilian clothing on missions, and an Atlantean who has to wear her uniform at least beneath her clothes for her entire technical work day.

"What's in the bag?" she asks as I climb aboard the ship with a duffel bag over my shoulder.

I set it on the floor next to chair while mentally prodding for a psychic link. She obliges and I respond over it, _::: The Helmet of Fate. ::: _Out-loud I say for Superboy's benefit, "Plan B."

Superboy raises an eyebrow and scratches Wolf's head.

M'gann's eyes widen. I lick my lips and head to my seat, explaining, _::: Wotan is an extremely advanced sorcerer. I do not have the training or the power to oppose him one-on-one. We will be facing extremely dangerous supervillains, ones who have taken down League members. :::_

_::: A backup. :::_

_::: I need you to get the Helmet to me if I tell you to. No matter what, if I ask for the Helmet, you get it to me. :::_

I can sense her uncertainty through the link but she agrees, _::: Okay. I can do that. :::_

* * *

**Bayou Bartholomew : October 1, 2010 – 18:52 CDT**

"What's in the duffel?" Kid Flash asks as he chews on a banana.

I glance down at the duffel bag beside me, "Plan B."

Miss Martian groans. I glance back as she presses a hand to her head and Superboy asks, "What's wrong?"

"Dizzy," Miss Martian answers.

"Martians get airsick?" Robin chuckles.

"She does look a little greener than usual," Kid Flash remarks.

"Not me, _her_," Miss Martian emphasises.

"Her?" I repeat, glancing at Artemis.

"I feel fine," Artemis says.

I nod, "As do I."

"_Her_, the Bio-Ship," Miss Martian clarifies. "She's trying to shield us but-"

The Bio-Ship lurches to the side abruptly. I grip the edge of my seat and press my feet down on the edge of the duffel bag as the Bio-Ship spins then sharply returns to a normal position. Only to be sent ricocheting to the side. It hits something, then something else, and the belt jabs against my flesh as we flip over and land lopsided.

Something grabs the Bio-Ship and its tilts like a seesaw before suddenly stopping. Black Adam tears a hole in the top of the Bio-Ship and Miss Martian shouts, "He's hurting her!"

Superboy snaps up, punching Black Adam and sending him flying off the Bio-Ship. The Bio-Ship sinks immediately and water pours in through the hole.

Great.

"No. No way am I nearly drowning three missions in a row," Artemis snaps, pulling out one of her re-breathers. She hands another one to Kid Flash and with them taken care of I dive under as Miss Martian opens a hatch for us to get out.

_::: Everyone out, now, ::: _I order, swimming through the hatch.

The water I know would be murky to Kid Flash, Robin and Artemis so I send a surge of light down my channels to help guide them through the water as I emerge from the Bio-Ship. Immediately I see the plants latching around the Bio-Ship, pulling it beneath the water. I snap up a pair of blades and slice through one of the plants blocking our way.

_::: Get in front of me, ::: _I order as Miss Martian telekinetically moves another plant out of our way temporarily.

The Team hurries ahead of me painfully slow – I am far too accustomed to swimming with Atlanteans – as I remain behind, blocking and retaliating against the plants. The instant they're all ahead of me I start swimming backwards and snap up a shield to block the plants. We go the long way around, avoiding any other plants attempting to kill us, and I get the Team to shore with my channels glowing like beacons in the murky water.

Miss Martian and Superboy immediately move to the trees to watch the Bio-Ship get dragged under. Miss Martian's hands clench, "She's in shock. She'll need time to recover."

Crippling dizziness sends me crashing to the ground, clutching my head. For an instant I can't see straight, I can barely think, then suddenly it's clear and Superboy is crashing into Black Adam as Count Vertigo stands over Kid Flash. The water is right in front of me though. I shoot to my feet and snap up a torrent of water from the river to crash into Count Vertigo.

Immediately, I order, _::: Robin, Miss Martian, disappear. We will keep them busy. You two fulfill the mission objective. :::_

They vanish and I'm slammed to the ground by Black Adam's punch. That is going to bruise.

I push myself back to my feet and dart toward Black Adam. His fist comes down and I block with my arms, twisting them so that I can grab his wrist and flip him over my hip. He starts hovering an instant before he hits the ground. Before I can react he's shooting towards me, grabbing me and flinging me around by my arms so that I slam right into Superboy and send both of us crashing to the ground. I grimace and roll off Superboy. Too quickly, there's pain then darkness.

I wince what seems like hours later. I can feel the bruises forming on my face and arms thanks to Black Adam. I open my eyes and find myself staring at the bars of a mystic cage containing myself, Artemis, Wolf and Superboy. I push myself up onto my hands and knees.

"They awaken," says Count Vertigo as I look around and take in Black Adam, Count Vertigo and Wotan around the cage being dragged through the air. "You're certain this will hold them?"

"The cage is impenetrable. Even the Superboy has no chance in escaping," Wotan responds.

"You are not the only one trained in the mystic arts, Wotan!" I snap, grasping the bars of the mystic cage. I pull on them, but all I manage to do is send a burning sensation across my channels.

Wotan smirks, "Please, Atlantean, do not pretend that you are in my League."

I do not have my water-bearers either, nor does Artemis appear to have her weaponry. Wonderful.

The Bio-Ship snaps out of nowhere and crashes into Wotan. The cage falls away and I hear the others shout in surprise as they awaken to falling. I twist so that I am able to land on my feet, sending up a surge of water upon impact. Artemis lands beside myself, thankfully we were not too high in the air.

"Augh, I feel naked, and not in a fun way," Artemis grimaces as she moves to grab her bow only to find nothing.

I smirk and dodge Poison Ivy's vine attack, "Manoeuvre seven."

Artemis turns and darts toward me. She leaps and slams her foot into my cupped hands. I throw her towards Poison Ivy, giving her the perfect opening to send her foot across Poison Ivy's face.

Superboy and Wolf advance on Ultra-Humanite while Kid Flash starts on Vertigo. I leave Artemis to distract Poison Ivy from Robin and Miss Martian rigging the central plant to blow. I slide along the watery ground and dart to Ultra-Humanite, narrowly dodging Superboy and Wolf being flung off him.

_BOO-OOOM!_

I grab Ultra-Humanite's arm as the central plant explodes. He twists and manages to rip me off and fling me to the side. My gills flare as my head winds up beneath the water on the ground and I cough as I shoot back to my feet as Miss Martian crashes to the ground beside me, closely followed by Robin landing next to her. They both shoot up as the rest of the Team does, each member heading to the nearest supervillain.

I wish I had my water-bearers.

I dodge Atomic Skull's blast and dart to the side, pausing as Wotan rises, shouting, "Enough!"

Mystic energy snaps down from his hands, impacting with Robin, then myself, then Artemis, Superboy, Wolf and Kid Flash. I grab the mystic energy and send it surging through my channels instead of through my body, ensuring that it does not slam me to the ground. Sharply, Miss Martian splashes to the ground in front of me, blasted by Wotan. I reach down and grab the mystic energy slamming against her. I order sharply, "Plan B."

Miss Martian nods and the Bio-Ship opens up above us. The duffel bag drops down to my lap and I allow the energy to travel to my forearms so that I can pull the helmet out of the bag. It's heavier than I remember.

"The Helmet of Fate!" I hear Wotan exclaim.

Kid Flash shouts, "No Aqualass! Don't!"

I put it on.

Darkness. With a mildly comforting blue light.

I spin around, taking in the space that seems to have no dimensions beyond 'never-ending'. Fascinating. If I did a report on this...goodness that would be the best report ever.

"Well, you weren't who I was expecting."

I turn sharply and find myself staring at Kent Nelson.

"Sir," I greet, hastily moving to salute him. "It is, truly, an honour to meet you."

"Aqualass, right?" Nelson says. "Thought it'd be that Wally kid again."

"I am sorry to disappoint, sir." I look up at the never-ending space, this is bizarre but not uncomfortable, utterly fascinating. "I assume that Nabu has taken over my body then?" I question, staring at where a ceiling should be but is not.

"That's what he does," Nelson confirms as I look back at him, "but he may not let you go kid. You're a bit more magical than Wally was."

"I know."

A sad look crosses Nelson's face. Quickly, I add, "You may wish to know, our friend, Superboy, took on a civilian identity and honoured you through his last name of Kent at the Martian Manhunter's suggestion. He and Miss Martian respect you greatly."

"You sure it was me he was honouring?"

I shoot Nelson an odd look, "Who else would he be honouring?"

"You don't know Superman's civilian ID do you?"

I raise an eyebrow, "I do not." I rub the bridge of my nose with a sigh, "He is a Kent as well isn't he?"

Nelson smirks.

"Martian Manhunter knew this, which is why he suggested the name Kent for Superboy's civilian surname," I say. "That it was your first name was merely a fortuitous coincidence."

"I'm willing to bet on that, kid."

"Superboy will not be pleased about that."

"Don't tell him."

"Apparently, that is my only option," I sigh.

"Are you having romantic troubles too?"

I stare at Nelson. I blink, "I assume that Wally claimed he was having problems in that area?"

"In a roundabout way, I guessed."

"I see. Well, I am noo-ah!"

I stagger backward, electricity coursing across my body. I wince and look up, "That is not a good battle."

"Wanna watch?" Nelson asks.

It is a surreal experience watching your body be controlled by another. Watching yourself be so immeasurably powerful. It is frightening, in a way. Exhilarating, in another.

I – Fate – rises from the hit and retaliates sharply, trading blows with Wotan easily. Wotan shouts about how he will defeat Fate, Fate retorts in a bizarre combination of my voice and Nabu's that there is no hope in defeating a Lord of Order.

It is…strange, to say the least.

"_I can defeat you and I will!" _Wotan shouts, only for Zatara to blast him out of the sky.

"_Not tonight, Wotan," _Zatara declares. The other Justice League members descend, including Batman, Black Canary, Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Superman, Captain Marvel and Annex.

I watch, suddenly intimately understanding of the fact that I may be stuck within the Helmet forever. I suppose it is a sacrifice that was necessary though. There was no way we could have defeated Wotan, much less survived, without it. I straighten my back and square my shoulders, watching silently as the Justice League surrounds the Injustice League.

Count Vertigo puts up his hands – this seems far too easy – and sighs, _"There will be another day."_

"_Another day?! ANOTHER DAY?!"_ Joker exclaims. He laughs, _"There won't be another day! Not for any of us!"_

My eyes widen as he raises his hands, garbed in the gloves that control the plants, and the plants rise, emitting what can only by a toxic gas.

"_Joker venom spores – don't breathe!" _Batman orders.

"No," I hiss.

Fate rises and summons an ankh in front of herself that siphons all of the gas within it as she declares, _"Fear not! Fate has intervened!"_

Silence.

Kid Flash is staring at me – at Fate. When did he break his arm? How did I not... nevermind. Regardless as to how, it is broken and that will change a few strategies of the Team.

The Team I am now unable to be a part of. Right.

Fate hovers above, assisting in transporting the Injustice League to their respective cells. I watch silently.

"How'd you become Aqualass?" Nelson asks abruptly.

"My king chose me," I answer, my eyes not moving from the display of Fate descending. Annex is watching Fate – me – descend and he looks…almost resigned.

"Do you know why?" Nelson asks.

"I had potential."

"Potential," Nelson nods, resting his hands on his cane as he watches Fate land.

Annex watches me – Fate – then comments in Atlantean, ~"The backup."~

I nod, but Fate, controlling my body, does not. Annex doesn't seem to know how to react. He simply sighs and comments so softly I barely catch it, "Sha'lain'a."

I twitch then shut my eyes. Matim…she will understand. She has to. She will. As will Patera. Tula and Garth will understand. They will not be pleased, but they will understand.

"_What were you thinking?!" _Kid Flash shouts. My eyes snap open and I watch, wide-eyed, as Kid Flash rounds on Miss Martian, _"How could you let her put on_ _the Helmet?!" _He looks at me – Fate – then lowers his gaze, _"Nabu will never release her. Kalla will be trapped inside Doctor Fate forever."_

He looks...incredibly saddened by that fact. Guilt climbs up from the pit of my stomach and flicks at my mind. I did not wish to hurt anyone, but there were few options. I could not oppose Wotan. I am simply not that powerful, not that skilled. I did not wish to hurt anyone, but I did.

I grasp my upper arms, anxiety creeping into my posture.

"Nabu, this is not the right candidate," Nelson declares and suddenly the image of what is going on outside of my body vanishes. I turn to face Nelson as he continues, his voice once one that could reshape reality itself, "Her soul belongs to her people, to her team."

The Helmet – Nabu – appears hovering in front of us, **~I have already given up one vessel. A vessel that did not belong to the world of sorcery. This vessel belongs to the world of sorcery.~**

"She belongs out there," Nelson argues, gesturing nowhere in particular. "Where she can accomplish everything that she was meant to accomplish. You know her potential, what she was meant to do, as well as I do. To deprive the world of that would be to deprive the world of _order_. Of the very thing you stand for."

Wait, what was I meant to do? What is my potential, exactly?

**~I will not be denied. Be rendered isolated, useless. This world needs order!~**

"You know what she can do, Nabu," Nelson says. "You say that the world needs order, so don't deny what she can do. What she _will_ do."

Nabu almost seems to sigh before responding, **~The world does have need of this vessel; this is true.~**

What?

"They'll find you a suitable vessel soon Nabu," Nelson promises.

I do not dare speak. I just watch and slowly, white light encroaches on my vision. Nelson's voice echoes in my ears, "Tell the kid I say 'Hi'. Good luck."

The never-ending space vanishes, replaced by the swamp and the helmet in my hands in front of me. I blink, my sight adjusting to a place that actually has dimensions beyond 'never-ending'.

Kid Flash darts forward, stopping narrowly in front of me. He stares up at me, "Nabu…let you go?"

"He almost did not," I admit. "Your friend, Kent, was helpful. He says 'Hello'."

Kid Flash grins.

"We're done here," says Batman. "The supervillain secret society has been neutralized. As for your performance – it was satisfactory."

I smile.

We actually took down the Injustice League. This is one for the books.

* * *

**Star City, California : October 2, 2010 – 00:26 PDT**

"You worked with Oliver," I say as I walk into Roy's apartment.

"I'm a professional," he points out, just beginning to remove his weaponry.

"Was it as bad as you feared?"

He sighs, "No. We still have our plays."

"Good," I say, grabbing an apple from his counter.

"You took on the big ones," Roy says, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"We defeated them."

Roy raises an eyebrow and I admit, "Miss Martian and I had a back-up plan that we did not inform the Team of. It…may not have been the best idea."

"What was it?"

"Wally took the Helmet of Fate to the Tower as a souvenir. I brought it along on this mission as I knew that the likelihood of me being able to take on Wotan in a magical battle was slim."

"The Helmet that Wally put on and nearly wound up stuck in?"

"Yes. I put it on."

Roy blinks, "Are you completely insane?"

"It was a calculated risk."

"You and I both know that we both do stupid-as-fuck things in this job because we don't think we deserve the job, think we have to prove ourselves. _That_ was a stupid-as-fuck thing to do."

"It had to be done. We had no knowledge of when the League would be able to come by, Zatara specifically. I did not have the ability to oppose Wotan and no one else on the Team is magical. We needed a back-up plan and Doctor Fate was that. So I became Doctor Fate for a bit."

"It was still stupid-as-fuck. You could have been stuck as Fate for the rest of your life."

"I know."

"But you don't care, because you think it had to be done."

"You would have done the same."

"Probably. Doesn't mean it wasn't stupid-as-fuck."

"Nelson convinced Nabu that it was not in the world's interests to keep me."

"The world's interests?"

"Their conversation was interesting, but not particularly illuminating on any details."

"But it would be bad for the world if you were stuck as Doctor Fate."

"Apparently."

He crosses his arms, "What the hell do you do that Doctor Fate can't?"

"If you find that out, please tell me."

He shakes his head, chuckling, "You _would_ be that person though."

I tilt my head, "I am not sure I follow."

"You know how all those people talk about 'ruling the world'?" At my nod he continues, "You'd by the only person to ever be voted in as Ruler of the World. You wouldn't even have to take it over. People would do it for you."

"That is a frightening thought. I do not want such power. I already dislike having the power I currently have."

Roy raises his eyebrows and leans back; "You really have no idea how good you are at your job."

I shift uncomfortably, "I suppose I do have a tendency to be rather critical of myself, but I rather doubt that it is any more than anyone else."

"Yeah, see, that. Making yourself seem like the everyday person when you're _not, _you're a superheroine, you're one of the most dangerous people on the planet. That's irritating."

"Apologies."

He frowns, turns, fumbles in a drawer for a moment then turns around, grabs my hand and puts a rubber band around my wrist. He explains, pulling the band, "I'm gonna snap this whenever you're ridiculously self-critical." He releases it and it snaps against my wrist. I simply raise an eyebrow at the light impact. He frowns, "This would work better if you weren't so durable."

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 3, 2010 – 21:46 EDT**

I take in a deep breath and pull up the Team's individual case notes of Bialya. It's time I finally read them.

Robin first.

oOoOo

_12:02 EEST – Woke up in the middle of Bialya, date says September 4. Either my equipment is reading the wrong date or I'm missing six months from my memory._

_Not much water around. Desert and all. I'm using the few rations I have and am heading to a GPS marker I apparently made. I'm hoping that once I reach that marker I'll figure out what's going on, why I'm in Bialya, why I can't remember six months, everything. At least get a hint._

_19:46 EEST – Reached the marker, fought a squad of Bialyan soldiers who wanted to 'Take me alive' for Queen Bee, and found a girl who kind of looks like J'onn, a female archer who seems to take cues from Green Arrow as far as uniform goes, and Kid Flash. Female J'onn is actually Miss Martian, J'onn's niece, and she gave away KF's secret ID as a way of proving that she knows us. The archer is, appropriately enough, Artemis. According to Miss M we're all on a team together, along with some guy named Superboy. I'm sure Superboy will be fine in Bialya. Judging from his name he's Superman's sidekick – hate that word – so he probably has similar powers. But, he still is missing, and he is a part of our team._

_Miss M offers to restore our memories – which were apparently wiped by some guy named Psimon, another telepath. It's the fastest way to figure this all out, so I agree, as do Artemis and KF._

_21:22 EEST – We completely forgot about Aqualass. Apparently. Which is seriously bad. She kind of needs water to survive, moreso than us humans. We've been in the desert for over 24 hours without much water, food, shade, etc, which means she probably has too. That kind of exposure I know for a fact would kill Aquaman._

_22:04 EEST – Tracing is easy. We head to where she's located and I keep my mouth shut about the very likely possibility of us finding a corpse instead of a walking and talking Aqualass. I really don't want to find her dead, hope I won't start panicking if we do. I mean, she's _Aqualass_, she's _Gills_. She's the strongest of all of us sidekicks. She's practically untouchable. Reminds me of Batman, actually. It just doesn't seem possible that she'd be taken down permanently, even by a desert._

_22:14 EEST – Aqualass isn't walking and talking, but she's alive, thank god. She's passed out, her skin is even dry – which is freaky, it's never dry – and she's babbling in Atlantean, keeps on saying the name 'Tula.' We need to get her inside somewhere, with water, probably an IV drip. KF is all out of juice so he can't even carry her to the Bio-Ship, and even if he had the strength to run all-out to get her to water so she doesn't die, it'd be difficult for him to carry her. Aqualass is heavy. Miss M, I think, could levitate her though-_

_Miss M just left. She sensed Superboy in pain or something and flew off to find him. Some team. We didn't even get a chance to go over our options – which aren't many, but the erasure of our memories could happen again if we split up, heck, even if we don't split up! We can't split up and then she just…flew off. Aqualass is dying! We need to get her out of here and having Miss M's help would speed that process up. Whatever. We cannot be distracted right now. I cannot be distracted right now. I'm second-in-command after Aqualass and with her out, it's up to me to make sure she doesn't die and the Team isn't taken down._

_22:53 EEST – KF and Artemis are carrying Aqualass on a makeshift stretcher. They're both tired, so am I, think we're all running on fumes at this point. Still wish Miss M had stayed. Hope she's successful with Superboy though._

_23:36 EEST – I distract a group of Bialyan soldiers so that we don't have to fight them. We aren't in fighting condition right now, not with Aqualass KO'd and us running on fumes._

_This is way not whelming, Aqualass has been getting steadily quieter which none of us are taking as a good sign. _

_00:46 EEST – We made it! Reached the Bio-Ship where it is on the Qurac-Bialya border, hooked up Aqualass to an IV and managed to find a cloth and some water, which Artemis is pressing to Aqualass' head. KF is eating before he falls over and I'm discovering new sunburns while I help Artemis with Aqualass._

_01:16 EEST – Aqualass' skin is still hot to the touch when Miss M returns with Superboy and a newbie, Sphere. Which – who – is an actual sphere, some sort of alien tech. _

_Miss M flies us out of Qurac while KF and I keep trying to contact the League via our electronic comm channels. Artemis and Superboy keep working on Aqualass – apparently the G-Gnomes gave Superboy some first aid skills, plus he's the only one beside Miss M who's able to actually move Aqualass easily._

_02:01 UTC-03 – Miss M has contact with her uncle. He's approaching the Bio-Ship as we fly over the Atlantic._

_02:08 UTC-03 – Martian Manhunter's here. He's projecting some sort of telepathic illusion for Aqualass, to make her get her head out of the space of heat and sun it's been in since she passed out. Judging from Manhunter's reaction, Aqualass isn't in a good place right now._

_03:23 EDT – Aquaman is away, unable to be contacted, so we're dropping into the Cave. Mentors + Red Tornado meet us at the Cave. Flash grabs Aqualass immediately and zips her over to the med-bay. Martian Manhunter stays with us, KF still eating while dealing with his sunburn, Artemis and I dealing with our sunburns, Miss M wringing her hands together and Superboy undoubtedly trying to listen in on what's happening in the med-bay. Martian Manhunter reviews Miss M's work in restoring our memories, apparently it was good. I still don't understand how we forgot about Aqualass though._

_09/05/10 19:00 EDT – It's frightening, when we're finally let into the med-bay where Aqualass is sitting in a tub looking like she didn't just nearly die. She's supposed to be untouchable. The one who knows what to do no matter what. Unbeatable. Not nearly dying._

_She's basically the big sister I never had. I don't think I could handle her dying._

oOoOo

Oh.

I stop reading. There is a little more, but I do not think I wish to see more.

I lean my head back to rest against the wall of the pool, the tablet resting lightly on my lap.

Damn.

He really…but I am not. I am not untouchable. I am not unbeatable. I am not unbreakable. I am just doing my job. The job that was offered to me and I took because I wanted to be someone more, I wanted to do something more, I wanted to be more than just that little girl who was made broken. I was always terrified about not being good enough, still am. I never even thought that no one else would recognize that. I did try to make it seem as thought I was always in control, in command, unbothered, but I never actually thought that it _worked_.

Apparently, I do not even know what I can do. Apparently, I can fool detectives. Apparently, I have a poker face people would kill for if even _Robin_ cannot see that I am flying by the seat of my pants most of the time. I must be lucky.

I know how to do my job. I understand the protocols, I can memorize a ton, I can fight and I can investigate but surely I am not _that_ good.

"_You know her potential, what she was meant to do…To deprive the world of that would be to deprive the world of order."_

"_What the hell do you do that Doctor Fate can't?"_

No pressure.

How am I supposed to live up to that? How am I supposed to get to the point where I can actually be who people think I am?

There is just no way. No way.

Pansy would yell at me for thinking this and so would Roy for that matter, but I am not someone who is supposed to have so much potential that Nabu himself comments on it. My matim had me when she was a teenager, she taught me how to steal, how to live on the fringes of society, how to live outside its constraints. My birth-father I know is one of the worst people on the planet, at least in my matim's eyes. My patera is an ex-con who left his sister alone. I was raised as a squatter. I have been kicked to the ground because of how I look. I have been mocked and ridiculed for daring to leave my house, for daring to punch supervillains, for daring to know combat sorcery. I'm supposed to be the one at the bottom of the ladder, or the one who is not even on the ladder.

I am not supposed to be that important. That _special._

I'm a soldier! I'm not a queen. I am not a princess.

I am not the person who moves entire continents. I just fight for the people who do.

I am a soldier.

That's it.

A soldier.

* * *

**Welcome, new followers, favouriters – it's a word now – and reviewers!**


	31. Kalladura'ham 24

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_Some lines are from Young Justice Episode 115: Humanity._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, discussion of discrimination ala Purists**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_We all participate in weaving the social fabric; we should therefore all participate in patching the fabric when it develops holes."_

Anne C. Weisberg

* * *

**24**

When I was 12, almost a year before I became Aqualass, I had visited Pansy and first met her new middle school friends: Marija, Gabbi, and Rachel.

It was a little frightening at the time, because I didn't want to show that I was Atlantean because to do so would open up a can that no one in my family wanted open. I was tense, quieter than usual, and was certain that her friends found me to be more than a little strange.

I did notice in that first meeting however that Gabbi had the sense of magic around her. I notice it more and more as time goes on, partly I believe thanks to my additional training in the mystic arts. She's more aware of the world than the others are. She's in-tune to everything. Then there are the serial dreams, of creatures such as Faeries and the undead.

I have yet to figure out where she gets the mysticism from and I am unsure how to go about figuring it out. Surface-world mysticism is not exactly my speciality.

I wonder how many others have mystic potential that is unrealized simply because the surface-world remains uneasy and, as a result, uneducated, about magic. Such a thought always plays at the back of my mind.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 10, 2010 – 16:58 EDT**

"Good work everyone," Black Canary speaks, prompting those of us sparring to stop. "So far it's been a very productive week."

"Yeah," snorts Artemis, "for everyone but Kid Malingerer."

"Hey!" Wally protests, lifting up his cast. "Arm broken in combat against the Injustice League here!"

"Heh, I've really enjoyed being your ah…Den Mother this week," Black Canary comments.

/ Recognized, Zatara 11. /

Zatara pulls up the controls for the zeta-tube and types in a few commands.

/ Recognized, Zatanna Zatara A03. Authorization, Zatara 11. /

A young girl, probably about Robin's age, walks into the Cave looking nervous. I can practically smell the mystic energy surrounding her. The fact that she looks like Zatara, with the same colouring and eyes, makes sense. She must be his daughter. Or niece. Someone related.

"Zatanna, this is the Team. Team, this is my daughter, Zatanna," Zatara introduces.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Robin!" Robin skids in front of M'gann. "I mean, I'm Robin. She's Megan. Uh, that's Wally, Artemis, Kalla, and Conner."

I smile and step forward, "Welcome to the Cave, Zatanna."

"Uh, thanks," she says, her eyes brushing across my channels with a flash of what I believe is recognition.

"So, uh, are you joining the Team?" Robin asks quickly.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," says Zatara, removing his hat. "This is strictly a visit. Though I am sorry we missed the training. It is something from which Zatanna could benefit."

_::: Do the rest of you get the impression that we're still on probation with Zatara? ::: _asks M'gann over the psychic link.

_::: Not just Zatara. I mean, why is Marvel still hanging around? ::: _asks Conner.

_::: Because we like having him around, ::: _says Wally.

Artemis rolls her eyes, _::: _You_ like having him around because he waits on you hand-and-foot. :::_

_::: And your point is? :::_

_::: It almost makes one nostalgic for Red Tornado as our supervisor, ::: _I comment.

_::: Yeah, ::: _agrees Robin, _::: at least he trusted us. :::_

_::: If you ignore the fact that we shouldn't have trusted him! That machine nearly got M'g – all of us – killed! :::_

"Are you guys having a psychic conversation?" cuts in Zatanna, stepping forward. "Cause I can't decide if that's cool or really rude."

I flick my eyes to her and nod apologetically, "Apologies. It was rude."

"We were talking about Tornado," says Conner, turning sharply to Black Canary and Zatara. "It's been weeks since the attack and the League hasn't told us anything!"

"The League is searching for Tornado, as well as the other androids that invaded the Cave, and their creator T.O. Morrow. Batman's made tracking them down our highest priority," says Black Canary.

"But you've found none of the above!" protests Robin.

"Not yet," clarifies Black Canary. "But Tornado is Justice League. The Team is _not_ to pursue this."

"Why don't you all take Zatanna on a tour of the Cave?" suggests Zatara, looking past us to where Zatanna had apparently bonded with Wolf and was petting him.

"A tour? Cool!" says Captain Marvel as he brings out a plate of nachos, prompting Wolf to bound up to him.

"Actually, I was hoping you could take out Wolf," says Conner. "He needs the exercise. We'll join you in a few."

"Sure, sure, I can do that!" Captain Marvel grins, "C'mon Wolf!"

The pair dart off.

"Wha-what about my nachos?!" exclaims Wally.

Conner grabs him and pulls him off with us to lead Zatanna deeper in the Cave.

Once we reach the kitchen Zatanna asks, sounding disappointed, "We aren't really taking a tour are we?"

"No, we're hunting down Tornado," snaps Conner. I turn and look at him. His expression softens and he looks at me for confirmation.

I nod, taking in Zatanna's change from her uniform to civvies – she moved quickly – and confirm, "Yes, we are."

"Wow, out loud and everything," Zatanna quips.

I smirk.

"What about New Girl?" asks Artemis.

Robin shrugs, "She won't tell."

"I can't tell," Zatanna smirks, "not if you kidnap me."

Artemis cocks an eyebrow, "Oh, she's gonna fit in great."

* * *

**Belle Reve Penitentiary, New Orleans : October 10, 2010 – 18:16 CDT**

"Doctor Strange owed us a favour for stopping last month's prison break," says Miss Martian, leaning over the desk and glaring at Ivo. "He's given us five minutes with you."

"Spill Ivo," snaps Superboy. "How do we find T.O. Morrow and his Reds?"

"No why in the world would I know how to find Morrow?" questions Ivo, leaning back in his chair.

"Because, and here's a truly dumb idea, you're Morrow's biggest competitor in the evil android game. Who better to keep track of what he's up to, and where?" explains Kid Flash, who had come up with the idea of interrogating Ivo.

"Ah, I see your point," relents Ivo, leaning forward. "Let me rephrase: Why in the world would I tell you how to find Morrow?"

"He knows," I say and glance to Miss Martian. "Do what you must."

Her eyes glow.

"Oh please, as if I've never faced a telepath before," Ivo mocks.

Zatanna leans over beside him and snaps, "Trulb tuo S'worrom eurt noitacol!"

Ivo blurts out, "Morrow is in a secret underground base beneath Yellowstone National Park 100 metres south of Old Faithful."

Well. That was…unexpected. Handy, but unexpected.

I arch an eyebrow.

"Wait! What just happened?!" Ivo exclaims.

I glance at Zatanna. She smirks.

"We are done here," I decide, turning and gesturing of the rest of the Team to leave the room.

After thanking Doctor Strange and Warden Waller we return to the Bio-Ship and start heading to Yellowstone. I pull up a map of Yellowstone National Park to get a preliminary look at it and start trying to come up with a plan. Simultaneously, I order Miss Martian, "Block out all external communication. Soon Canary, Zatara, and likely Batman will know of our visit with Professor Ivo. We haven't much time."

She nods.

Robin speaks up, "Look, I'm trying to be all nonchalant here but-"

"Why? Be as chalant as you'd like," Zatanna quips.

Robin grins. Cute. Boy has a crush.

"I think we're all just trying to get a handle on your powers," says Artemis. "Could you…teleport us to Tornado? Or Morrow to a cell? Or force his bots to surrender?"

"Or create peace on Earth for all time?" Zatanna challenges. "Zatara couldn't even do all that and I'm nowhere near my dad's level. I need to know a spell cold, or at least have time to prep it, plus all magic requires energy, which usually has to come from within. I just can't make the impossible happen at will."

"That you can create something out of nothing; that is the greatest misconception about magic," I recite.

Zatanna nods, flashing a grateful smile at me.

"What's our ETA to Yellowstone?" asks Superboy abruptly. "I'm way past ready to stuff Tornado into a trash compactor."

He is irate today. This may be problematic.

"Are you so certain he betrayed us?" I question softly, looking up from the map.

"Aren't you?!"

"I am not convinced," I admit. "And even so, that makes him the victim of his creator's programming. Certainly he deserves the chance to prove he is more than the weapon others designed him to be."

Superboy turns back around, apparently calmer. Understanding, I hope, what the approach to this mission will be.

* * *

**Yellowstone National Park : October 10, 2010 – 20:22 MDT**

"Stealth mode," I order, switching my uniform to said mode. Miss Martian lowers the ramp for us to exit and I approach Zatanna, "I recommend you stay behind."

"Is that an order?" she asks.

"No, you must do as you see fit."

But it would be nice if I did not have to worry about you getting killed, seeing as I have no idea what your abilities are in the field.

"Good." She waves her hands around her, "Emit ot yrt tuo eht wen kool!"

A magician's outfit similar to her father's, although lacking the hat, replaces her civvies. I quirk a smirk.

_::: Everyone online? ::: _asks Miss Martian. Confirmations dart through the psychic link and I dart out of the Bio-Ship.

It doesn't take long before Robin can confirm, "Ivo was right, something's down there."

We follow Robin, darting down the incline and to the rocky area below, next to the volcano. Wind rips forward, sending us crashing backwards. I roll onto my hands and knees and look up to see Red Tornado looming above us in the air, supported by a tornado.

An image through the psychic link snaps forward, displaying a birds-eye view of the ground, clearly from Miss Martian's own eyes, wherein scrawled across the ground is the statement PLAY DEAD.

"Why Tornado?! Why are you doing this?!" Miss Martian shouts. She questions over the link, _::: Message received? :::_

She receives a confirmation and Superboy shouts, "Who cares why?! Nail him!"

I sprint forward, shouting, "Superboy, manoeuvre seven!"

He darts ahead of me then spins and cups his hands in front of him. I leap onto his hand and he throws me up and over his head. I bring my fist back, ready to nail Tornado in the face. His fist comes up and around, colliding with my face with a sharp _clang_ that sends me reeling backwards and colliding with Superboy.

We hit the ground and remain limp as the rest of the Team brings out their attacks and let Red Tornado take them down.

A new voice declares, "Quite a performance, brother, but we both know that's all it was. I have all your memories, Tornado, plus a next-gen processor. I know your next move before you do."

Wonderful.

_::: Up, ::: _I order, pushing myself off Superboy and onto my feet.

"Blowing a message into the sand?" the newcomer – Red...something – mocks as he raises up the piece of earth the message had been carved in. The piece of earth shatters into boulders and I dart forward with my water-blades, slicing a couple of boulders in half while Miss Martian telekinetically moves others.

_::: Zatanna? :::_

_::: I'm good. But Red Tornado's getting away! :::_

I glance at the sky. Red Tornado is indeed flying away. I frown and try to recall the map of the area around the volcano. We will have little advantage here, with the newcomer being able to control earth.

_::: Is he abandoning us? ::: _exclaims Artemis.

_::: I don't believe that! ::: _Miss Martian responds.

Kid Flash is sent crashing backwards by Red Something as he says, "You are no match for my, humans."

"We're not human!" Miss Martian and Superboy shout, snapping forward, attacking him from the front.

Red...Earth? Regardless, he retorts, ::: My apologies, I suppose the properly inclusive term is 'meatbags'."

"This is great," Artemis comments dryly, notching an arrow as she sprints beside me towards Red.

The earth goes out from beneath us and I shout in surprise, twisting to reach out to Artemis as she shoots a grappling arrow out of the fissure. Our hands clamp around one another's forearms and we swing out to land on the surface.

"Tornado's memories and my superior processing speed allow me to anticipate your every move," Red boasts as he barely moves and escapes Robin's birdarangs unscathed.

"Emoks emoceb a dlofdnilb!" Zatanna shouts and the smoke wraps around Red's eyes, temporarily blinding him. "Tornado never knew my moves."

That may be our only advantage. I suppose it is a good thing she came along.

_FWOOMBOOM!_

The volcano erupts and I reflexively fling up my arms to block the heat.

Well. Shit.

Don't tell me he's Red Volcano. Please no. Anything but that.

_::: He's activating a Stage 2 eruption, it gets to Stage 3, kiss the hemisphere goodbye, :::_ says Kid Flash, flipping to avoid molten rock being chucked at him.

_::: Hit him from all sides, ::: _I order, leaping forwards, my water-bearers ready. _CR-KRSH!_

I hit the ground, far too close to lava – or magma, whatever – for comfort, with the remnants of the boulder scattered around me. I hate volcanoes.

We need to take out Red Volcano before we can do anything about the eruption. How are we supposed to get close enough to him to do that when he knows our every move? The only one whose moves he doesn't know are Zatanna's, and I do not even know her moves! Not to mention, my arms are starting to shake because of the heat and if I am beginning to shake then Miss Martian likely will be feeling the effects of the heat as well.

I hate volcanoes.

I dart to my feet, acutely aware of the sweat beginning to form on my body, and sprint away from the volcano, to an area where the heat is not quite so intense. I put my hands on my knees, breathing shallowly as I stare at Volcano now holding an unconscious Miss Martian. Kid Flash manages to grab her, confusing him with Zatanna's magical copies of the speedster, and he comes to a stop in front of us with Miss Martian in his arms.

Dammit, there has to be a weakness we can exploit. I need more water if I am going to even _dent_ this guy, but getting water from here with so much heat in the air is nigh-impossible.

Fuck.

Water shoots past my shoulder, a torrent that slams into Red Volcano and send shim crashing backwards into the magma.

Tula?

"Nice hit!" Robin exclaims.

"The hit was not mine," I say, glancing back at where the water had came from. I turn and spot Red Torpedo, of all individuals, rising up on water.

Torpedo snaps out even more water to send Volcano crashing back, again, into the magma. Volcano rises on a pillar of molten earth only for Tornado to crash through it and send Volcano splashing back into the magma. Red Inferno flies forward as Volcano snaps up. She unleashes a flurry of fireballs against the volcano villain then lands in the magma in front of him, grabbing his hands and keeping him down. Torpedo snaps above us and crashes into Volcano, submerging all three of them beneath the magma.

My eyes widen.

Tornado snaps down into the magma, helping to pin Volcano, his legs below the knee submerged in the magma.

Oh Poseidon…they are…oh Poseidon.

They are not coming back up.

"Superboy," I snap, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him towards them. "Get Tornado."

He darts forward and I wipe my shaking, sweaty hand against my uniform, fighting to stand straight. Superboy grabs Tornado – now lacking his legs below his knees – and the pair crash onto the rock in front of us.

The volcano is still erupting. I have no idea how to stop a volcano. This was not covered in my training, much like giant mind-controlled elephants. I can handle underwater vents, but volcanos are enigmas.

"Tornado, listen!" Kid Flash shouts. "We're on the verge of a Stage 3 Super-Eruption! There's no turning back from that! We need to vent pressure, _fast!_ The ash cloud will bring on a worldwide nuclear winter unless you divert it!"

Red Tornado nods.

"Triangulate a round of pressure locust!"

"Right!" Robin snaps up his holographic computer. "There, there and there."

Artemis looks at the map and then shoots of an arrow that splits into three flares. Explosions erupt from their impact points and the volcano shifts, the ground trembling beneath our feet.

Red Tornado soars into the air, past the cloud of ash, and summons a tornado that draws up the cloud and disperses it into space.

The magma cools. The temperature drops. I blink.

"Yes!" Kid Flash cheers.

Holy shit.

"Well done, Kid," I say, turning to him. Thank Poseidon he knew what to do.

"Yeah, I know, I'm awesome," he grins.

_Clank! Clank!_

Red Tornado hits the ground lightly, on his hands and, well, thighs. We dart to him.

**23:16 MDT**

"There, that should do it," says Robin, stepping away from Red Tornado lying on a cot in Morrow's base.

"Yes, I can speak again," says Red Tornado.

"You were willing to sacrifice yourself to save the planet," I say, stepping forward and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"The planet would have survived, it is humanity that was saved, though not by me. My sister and brother were the true heroes today."

A corner of my mouth quirks up, "Yes, but my point is that you were never a mole, never a traitor."

There isn't a traitor, thank goodness. Now I can go back to not having to investigate my own team. Thank Poseidon.

"No, I left to protect you from further attack and to find my creator, Morrow," Red Tornado confirms.

"Reddy, we can rebuild you, better than before!" says Robin, holding up an android leg he had found across the lab.

"I do not believe I should be rebuilt," Red Tornado says.

I frown. Superboy snaps, "Why'd you agree to become our den mother in the first place?"

"I was the pragmatic choice. I do not require sleep, have a secret identity or second life."

"But you do have advanced AI programming, designed to learn, adapt, evolve," says Kid Flash.

"Hello Megan!" Miss Martian exclaims. "You wanted to become more human!"

"And you couldn't do that with the League, they're stiffs," says Artemis.

"You're sure not gonna learn emotions from Batman," agrees Robin. He looks around at us, "Trust me."

"Then the Cave was not a proving ground only for us," I say, "but for you as well."

Red Tornado lifts his head, "I do not know if these statements are accurate, but perhaps they are true, and if I understand the term correctly – I believe I have come to _care_ about you all."

"See?" says Superboy. "Practically a meatbag already."

* * *

**New York City, New York : October 16, 2010 – 10:02 EDT**

"Hello sir."

"Aqualass, what are you doing here?" Giovanni Zatara asks in surprise, scanning my civvies.

"Kalladura'ham is fine. I wished to speak to Zatanna." He glares. I continue quickly, "As well as apologize for mine and the Team's actions. We acted foolishly and our actions put Zatanna in harm's way, which we apologize for. Personally, I simply wished to interact with someone on the surface who was not ignorant of the intricacies of mysticism."

His glare falters.

"It appeared as though Zatanna appreciated that as well," I add. I incline my head slightly, "I apologize on behalf of the Team for causing you undue stress."

He sighs, "Very well." He moves out of my way and gives me entrance to their home, "Zatanna is in her room, upstairs, first door on the left."

"Thank-you, sir," I say, turning and smiling gratefully at him.

He crosses his arms, "You must give your parents much grief."

"I am afraid I do not follow, sir."

"You have made an art of apologizing. I would suggest patenting that."

I smirk, "Thank-you, sir, again. For the compliment and the admittance into your home."

He rolls his eyes.

I turn and dart up the stairs.

"Kalla?" Zatanna exclaims, shooting up from her desk.

"Apologies if I interrupted some-"

"How did you even get into the house?" she asks. "I thought my dad, like, banned you all from ever interacting with me again."

"I am good at apologizing," I explain with a shrug.

She snorts, "Apparently. The Team with you?"

"I am afraid not. I figured it would be best if I apologized on behalf of the Team myself. It is my responsibility after all, as I am the leader."

"I can see why. You even got my dad to do what you want." She leans back in her chair, "Think you can get me out of this house too?"

"I thought you used magic to do so."

"He put up a charm to keep me from using my magic to sneak out," Zatanna sighs. "You didn't notice?"

I put a hand on the wall, next to a poster she has of a stage magician. I frown, "It is pure surface-world magic, not exactly related to Atlantean mysticism. I am less adept at spotting such magic."

"Right," she shrugs. "Well I can sense it. It's like static."

"Pleasant," I remark dryly.

She laughs, "Are you always this sarcastic?"

"Generally."

"So think you can convince my dad to let me out of the house instead of keeping up the whole Rapunzel act?"

"Usually, people comment on The Little Mermaid when I am around."

Zatanna snickers, "Right, think you can do it?"

"I can try."

**10:47 EDT**

"You are my new best friend," Zatanna says as we dart across a street to a coffee-shop she had recommended.

"I shall cherish such an honour," I remark as we step into the coffee-shop. Walking through the doorway is like walking through a sheet. I raise an eyebrow and turn to look back at the door, "Charm?"

"Real old one, probably related to Atlantean mysticism. It's to keep non-magical folks away," Zatanna explains. "Also makes the coffee-shop look like an abandoned building. Sort of Harry Potter-esque, just, you know, real."

"We generally do not have a need for such charms in Atlantis," I say, glancing up at the chalk menu above the counter.

"Guess you wouldn't. The city's pretty much crawling with magical folks though, mostly city mages, the usual tech Fae, that sort of stuff. Pretty minor compared to the big names like Wotan and my dad. Dad mentioned there's a group of corbae skinshifters." She pauses, "Tell me you know what skinshifters are."

"I do."

"Thank God," she breathes. "It is _so difficult_ to try and explain that stuff to people who don't know. Especially my friends from school, none of whom are involved in the magical world and think that people like my dad just use advanced tech instead of actual, you know, magic. Oh! You should try the pumpkin hot chocolate, I could _live_ on that stuff."

We order from the barista, a woman with the head of a fox, then settle ourselves down in some cushy, patched chairs by one of the windows. A board game with black and white tiles and game pieces is set up on the table and across from us an elderly woman with wispy grey hair and a woman with leaf-green, citrus and brown skin and twigs for fingers are staring intently at the board.

"Mahshid and Persimmon," Zatanna introduces, gesturing to the elderly woman and the twig woman whom I believe is a nymph. "They play this game a lot."

"Shhh!" Mahshid hisses, waving a bony finger at Zatanna. "I'm thinking!"

I frown at the board, "This looks similar to a game we have in Atlantis. My politics instructor plays it often."

"I'm pretty sure it's popular in Asia," Zatanna says, leaning forward. "It's called _Go_."

"It sounds familiar."

"Apparently, Genghis Khan made all his commanders become masters at it," Mahshid explains as she moves a few pieces and turns the white pieces over to make their black sides show up.

Persimmon comments, her voice a whisper that I do not so much as hear as it brushes through the air and against my ears, "It is a game of strategy. You must outwit your opponent, and no matter how many times my opponent has played it and how many years she has lived, I have lived for many more and played for many more."

"Ouch," Mahshid comments as Persimmon finds an opening and exploits it beautifully.

Forty minutes later, I am playing. I blame Zatanna. She endorses my gift at persuasion but she really should give more credit to her own.

"You fought hard," Persimmon comments as I stretch my arms above my head and get out of the position I had been in for who knows how long while playing against her.

"You won though, your experience served you well," I respond.

"You have learned how to play the game now. I suspect future matches will be much more difficult."

"Perhaps," I respond, standing. "Thank-you for the game. Zatanna-"

"What?" she asks from her position lying upside-down on the chair. There is a bag from a clothing store next to her that I know was not there when I had started playing. "You were playing for, like, over three hours. There was a lot of staring at the board. I went and did something while you were absorbed in the game."

"My apologies, I lost track of time."

She waves my concern off, "I got a new shirt." She glances at her cell, "But I'm pretty sure my dad is going to kill me if I miss dinner, so we really need to go."

"Of course. Thank-you again, Persimmon, Mahshid. Let's go, Zatanna."

"Please," Zatanna agrees, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the coffee-shop.

"I apologize for taking up your day with _Go_," I say quickly as we dart back to her home.

"We'll just have to go paint the town red next time, instead of black and white," she smirks. "Seriously though, thanks for talking to my dad. Maybe he'll actually let me on the Team now."

"Take it slow," I advise. "His baby is growing up and it is scary for him. My parents have had similar misgivings."

"Heh – he'll have to get used to it. I think you're the first person to do that and actually succeed though, so, you know, I owe you one."

"You do not have to do anything-"

"I want to. I totally owe you. So, you know, call me if you need backup or a wing-woman or something."

I smirk, "I will. Thank-you, Zatanna."

"Yeah, I better get inside, I can practically _feel_ my dad's glare," Zatanna says, nodding back to her house.

"Of course. I hope to see you on the Team soon," I say. "Good luck."

"Bye!" she turns and darts into her house.

* * *

**Sender: **aquamirage  
**Date: **Fri, 15 October 2010 20:16:18 -0300  
**From: **Tula [A'aiad]  
**Organization: **Angelia Graphikos  
**To: **knightlight  
**Subject: **Developments

Kalla,

First, your matim is intense. I suppose I should have expected that though. Not to say that she is not good at what she does, that is not at all what I mean! She is excellent, and I am learning a lot from her, not to mention your patera. Though I do wonder sometimes how he knows so much about surface-world weaponry.

Your parents are plotting, by the way. I am pretty sure they are going to tell you soon what it is all about, but I have to tell someone and you deserve to know as soon as possible. So, your parents are investigating the Purists and acting against them. Your matim even suspects that someone close to Annex is a Purist!

Numerous allies have already shown up, including Je'ria – you remember her, the matim of Ataxe – and Sergeant Knasso. I am joining them as well, though that has only occurred recently after they spoke to my parents – whom I believe will also be helping. Garth is helping too, though I do not think his parents know yet.

This is growing, rapidly. I know your parents, your patera in particular, are working to keep it as peaceful as possible, they do not want any of us being imprisoned or something for helping, but I am concerned that they – in particular your matim – do not think the same of themselves. I cannot figure out what happened to them but when I asked your matim why she would volunteer to be imprisoned, or worse, if the group against the Purists were to be attacked by the Purists in power, she just said that 'it is the right thing to do' and 'I can handle prison, I've handled worse'. She is getting very angry, and sometimes…I loath to say this Kalla, but sometimes she scares me. She's just so furious about the Purists and about the people in power that I am concerned she will do something she will regret, or something that will hurt you. I know that your patera is working to help keep her from doing such things, but it seems as though something in the past few months has just caused the restraint she had before to start to break.

That lessened restraint has given me many opportunities to learn, but I am still concerned.

I am afraid this email does not get much better.

In regards to what you asked me to do, in investigating the new hires, I have found a few interesting tidbits of information with some help from those contacts you gave me. Coci claims that she came here from Kolpos and was involved in the tragedy. I have found that while she is from Kolpos, that was four years ago, far before the tragedy occurred. Everything else she gave your matim appears to have been faked. Including her name. Her birth name is Kora.

Kora completed her mandatory military training in Kolpos but then she left and disappeared for a year before appearing in Lemuria at The Academy. You know, the institution that focuses on the non-mystical academic areas of study, and is where King Arnis' son goes now. Arnis' son, Deluj, is studying law there just like Kora did. In the year before she came to Shayeris there is nothing about her. Nothing. I do not know if it is because my contacts or I are not doing our jobs properly or if everything about her was indeed erased from every database we have access to. Whatever is the cause, Kora just _vanishes_ a year ago. Then someone with her face, but not her hair or eye colour, winds up in Shayeris claiming to be named "Coci". There is also no information on where she gained her mystical training. She certainly was trained in the military but after that…nothing.

I have found little on her family but we – apologies, by 'we' I am referring to myself, Garth, Sha'ark and Knasso – will continue to search for that information as well as information on that missing year.

If you would like me to, I will inform your parents what I found on "Coci".

The rest of the new hires appear to be legitimate. Though since I learned that "Coci" lied about her name I have been focusing more on her than the others. I will look deeper into the others.

Also, your matim has been meeting fairly regularly with a man named Hai'lain. Apparently he is a reporter. She will not tell me why she is meeting with him. Do you know why?

I heard through the currents of what you did when those plants attacked the surface-world. I am now forever envious of you for having the chance to put on the Helmet of Fate. Anassa, according to Annex, squealed when she heard what happened. I suspect she is envious as well. Of course, we are all grateful that Nabu released you, but that must have been an amazing experience! I'm grinning just thinking about such an experience!

Hope I have a cheerier message for you later on! Let me know what you decided in regards to becoming the Patrōna of Annex and Anassa's child.

*hugs*

~Tula

oOoOo

**Sender: **knightlight  
**Date: **Sat, 16 October 2010 07:13:02 -0400  
**From: **Kalladura'ham D  
**Organization: **Angelia Graphikos  
**To: **aquamirage  
**Subject: Re: **Developments

Tula,

I do not believe I will be able to take the position of Patrōna, I have to put the Team first in this situation, but I may suggest that either you or Garth be offered the position.

Do inform my parents what you found about Coci.

I unfortunately do not know why my matim is meeting with Hai'lain. He is an acquaintance through my work as Aqualass, but otherwise I know little of him.

The news of my matim's actions is concerning. I do not know why she would say that she has experienced worse than prison, but I doubt that she will tell you anything, as she has not yet told me anything either. I suspect she is simply fed-up. Angry and frightened. The increased Purist activity is terrifying for people like us, us gilled people. I loathe admitting it, but _I_ am even frightened and I am usually not even in Atlantis!

Her anger, our anger, is justified, Tula. We have been downtrodden by the so-called pure for generations. We have been barred from entering professions. We have been forbidden from shops. For a time, we were forbidden from attending even The Academy and Conservatory. Not in my lifetime, but in Matim's early years without a doubt. We have been said to be inept at sorcery, we have been said that we are, biologically, moronic when compared to the "pure." There was a time when a "pure" attacking an "impure" would mean the "impure" would be imprisoned and the "pure" would be pitied.

We have good reason to be angry and frightened. We have been abused and discriminated against for years. It has gotten better, yes, and the sort of discrimination my matim faced when she was a child is now virtually unheard of. That is until recently when Topo had that slur carved into his chest and people like Je'ria were attacked. It is getting worse. We are returning to the days when people like my matim and I, when people like Lori and La'gaan and Je'ria and Sha'ark could not swim outside of their homes without fearing being attacked.

The Purists are getting bolder and the only logical reason for that boldness is because they believe they can get away with it. The only way they can get away with it is if the people in power are either Purists themselves or allied with them, and the fact that Annex let an individual such as Ronal swim free certainly does not help quell that belief that the Purists are gaining more control. I suspect my matim is correct, that there is someone in the highest echelons who is a Purist.

Unfortunately, I am not certain that I can write-off Annex as not either allied with the Purists, blackmailed by them, or as being one of them. The release of Ronal has shaken my trust in him. It is likely blackmail, but if so who is blackmailing him and how?

When I became Aqualass, Annex told me that I was to remain loyal not to him – the monarchy, Annex, Aquaman – first, but to Atlantis. Aqualass was meant to fight for Atlantis, not for him.

I fear this is what he was talking about, whether he knew it or not.

Be careful,  
Kalla

* * *

**A/N: **I have finals now. This is secondary.

**R&R**


	32. Kalladura'ham 25

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_Some lines are from Young Justice Episode 116: Failsafe._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, everything Failsafe**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die."_

Herbert Hoover

* * *

**25**

**Sender: **knightlight  
**Date: **Sat, 16 October 2010 07:32:22 -0400  
**From: **Kalladura'ham D  
**Organization: **Angelia Graphikos  
**To: **c_durham  
**Subject: **What is going on?

Patera,

What in the name of Poseidon are you doing?

What is Matim doing? Tula is concerned about her and frankly so am I. It sounds as though you two are planning something radical, something that may go against Annex even. More than simple critique would. I would like to know a bit more about this, if at all possible.

Thanks,  
Your daughter

oOoOo

**Sender: **2cd  
**Date: **Sat, 16 October 2010 12:22:18 -0300  
**From: **2cd  
**Organization: **S-Beta  
**To: **aqualass.k  
**Subject: **Use this

/ encrypted /

Kalla,

We can't use our Graphikos emails anymore to discuss stuff like this. Your mother's certain the execs are having our entire email history being pulled out of the servers, and I agree. Continue to use that email for everyday things, talking to Pansy, stuff like that.

It'll be easier to keep track of everyone involved if we adjust our emails accordingly.

Your new email: 7ak.  
Password: at3f0r

Tula: 3at  
Sha'lain'a: 1sk  
Je'ria: 4aj

Your mother will be emailing you later. She wants to meet with you topside, discuss a few things. Right now she's dealing with what Tula just told her, which you apparently have something to do with. She's a little upset that Coci got past her bullshit detector.

We're fine, Kalla, I promise you. We're just concerned about the Purists and unwilling to sit back. Stay focused on your job topside. We'll tell you more when we meet with you.

Love,  
Patera

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 16, 2010 – 16:01 EDT**

As of right now, Superman, Captain Atom, Captain Marvel, Martian Manhunter, the Green Lanterns and Batman are all down. Dead, I suspect.

It's a training exercise.

The Team is engaged in a telepathic training exercise, courtesy of Martian Manhunter. Thus, nothing is real, and I am attempting vainly to figure out how in the world this will be determined to be an accurate representation of our abilities. I am forcing myself to appear engaged at the very least but really I am just questioning Manhunter's and Batman's decision to make the first thing we see in this exercise be the demise of half the Justice League. It is an ominous way to start the exercise.

Zatara's face pops up on the holographic computer screen, ::: Tornado, did you… :::

"Yes, Zatara, we saw," confirms Red Tornado. "Celestial defenses have failed. Initiate all terrestrial measures."

::: Affirmative, see you in the field. :::

The transmission ends.

"I must join the League. We will protect the planet at all costs, but should we fail the responsibility falls to you," Red Tornado says.

I glance at the Team. I nod, "We stand ready."

Honestly, I did not expect the exercise to involve an alien invasion. I expected something like one of the biggest supervillains attacking us – Ocean Master, perhaps.

Why would the League not occupy the invasion force while my – the – Team infiltrated one of their ships and gathered some intel? Surely, the League would have considered that plan.

Red Tornado zetas out of the Cave and Robin pulls up as many transmissions and news feeds as possible from where the aliens are attacking Earth. I cross my arms over my chest and watch as the Justice League defends.

We should really be gathering intel. That's the entire point of the Team being a covert-ops team for the Justice League. Granted, we do not know much about the invaders to know if we even could infiltrate one of their ships and gather said intel, but we could still try! I suppose, if that idea was apparently shot down before the League went out to confront the invaders then I should stop dwelling on it.

/ "This is Iris West-Allen reporting live. The extra-terrestrials have brought their relentless global attack to Central City." /

There are explosions in the background of the feed, the civilians in the background are disintegrated and then Flash comes out of nowhere to grab Iris – Wally's aunt, if I remember correctly – while mystic energy covers the lens of the camera. The cameraperson reappears atop a building along with Iris being set down by Flash.

/ "You should both be safe here, at least for now," / says Zatara.

/ "Ah, thank-you, Flash. And Zatara." / Iris says before Flash – her husband, I believe – darts off and Zatara flies away. She looks at the cameraperson, / "Denny, you okay?" / The cameraperson responds with a thumbs-up and Iris continues, / "As you can see, the Justice League is attempting to hold the line." /

Flash, Zatara and everyone they were trying to rescue are disintegrated. Vaporized? Regardless as to the terminology, they're gone. Followed quickly by Iris and Denny.

It's a little uncomfortable to watch Cat Grant shouting at Iris to get out of there, but she quickly recovers and reports, / "We're sorry, we're experiencing some ah, technical difficulties with our feed in Central City. We take you now to Taipei where a League contingency is having a bit more luck." / The feed isn't much more cheerful than the one from Central City, or space, / "Ladies and gentlemen, we've lost Black Canary, Green Arrow and the Hawks. Other heroes reported dead or missing include Batman, Icon, Atom, and Aquaman." /

Well, Anassa's in charge of Atlantis now. Are the invaders even attacking Atlantis? Thus far it seems to be all surface cities.

::: Red Tornado to Cave. ::: Red Tornado's transmission is coming from Smallville, Kansas. Why the invaders would attack a small farming town, I have no idea. ::: I fear I am all that is left of the League. :::

Robin shouts, "RT-"

The connection fizzles out, obliterated.

The League is completely down. Our turn.

"We are Earth's heroes now," I state, my eyes narrowing.

"So what are we waiting for, a theme song?" Superboy snaps.

"A strategy," I correct. "Earth's weapons are ineffective and it has been made chillingly clear that a direct attack will not succeed."

"Checking satellite imagery," Robin says, pulling up a hologram of the globe with red patches across it. "Here's where the aliens are now."

"This one get lost?" questions Superboy, pointing up by the Arctic.

"It's Superman's Fortress of Solitude!" exclaims Robin.

Surprise crosses Superboy's face, "Superman has a Fortress of Solitude?"

"Its power source must have attracted the aliens' attention," explains Robin. "At least enough to send a scout ship to investigate."

"Must be some fortress," Superboy snorts.

"Conner…"

"No, it's okay," Superboy brushes M'gann off. "Guess there's a lot about Superman I'll never know, well, y'know, _now_."

"We will target this lone ship," I decide.

"Yeah," Kid Flash agrees. "Break it down, build more, hit those ugly aliens with their own mojo!"

Artemis elbows him in the side, "Martian and Kryptonian in the house."

"Uh," Kid Flash forces a chuckle, "not that all aliens are automatically ugly."

_Poseidon._

This is so inaccurate to real life. But, I suppose if Batman believes it will be good for us to go through such an exercise, we will go through with it. No matter how inaccurate it is.

"Bio-Ship, now," I order. "Miss Martian, the Bio-Ship will be able to integrate the weaponry of the enemy ships, correct?"

"Yes, it will take some time but it should work," she confirms.

When we locate the ship as we reach the Arctic – I do admit to loving the fact that in this exercise we can skip all the traveling time we would have to go through in reality – I give the final orders, "Approach in stealth. Miss Martian, you will disable communications. Artemis, cover the ship's exit. I will advance on the ship from beneath the ice. The rest of you, from land. Superboy, you will have to keep the weaponry still, I will help if necessary. Robin will ID the weak points and we will disconnect the weaponry. Weapon integration will commence then. No undue risks, am I understood?"

"Got it Boss," Robin mock-salutes me.

"Good. Miss Martian?"

She opens up a hole in the Bio-Ship. I hop out onto the ice below and quickly break through the ice to dive into the icy water. Even for me the water is a little nippy.

I swim beneath the ice, flicking my eyes up every so often to keep an eye on the ship flying above.

There was no sign of any of the invaders attacking Atlantis. Our last resort may be calling on Atlantis to reveal themselves.

There are legends of devices in Atlantis able to augment an individual's sorcery to the point where immense waves can be created and brought down upon land. There are legends that say one of those devices were responsible for sinking Atlantis thousands of years ago. They would be able to combat these invaders easily. I wish I knew where such devices were.

_::: Communications disabled, ::: _Miss Martian reports as I move beneath the ship. The ship falls onto the ice above me and I move behind it as Miss Martian adds, _::: Propulsion disabled. :::_

A moment later, Artemis reports, _::: And ET's are sealed inside. :::_

I can glimpse the ship firing off blasts. The instant the cannon turns away from my landing zone I shoot out of the water, destroying the ice above me, and land on one of the wings. The cannon swings toward me and I flatten myself on the wing just as Wolf leaps at the cannon, swinging it to the side so that the shot goes wide.

Superboy darts forward, grabbing the cannon and holding it in place.

Robin lands on the ship beside me and pulls up his wrist computer's holographic interface, _::: Identifying weapon's structural stress points and links to the ship. ::: _He stands and points as Miss Martian flies forward, _::: Here, here and here! :::_

She sends telekinetic bursts at the points, stressing them enough to be torn apart. Superboy grips the cannon tightly and begins pulling it off the ship, wires and coils dropping from the cannon as he does so. I scan the skies. Artemis remains beyond us, covering us from her shelter of snow.

Wolf slams Superboy to the side. I get a glimpse of Superboy crashing past me before light engulfs Wolf, pulsing, and then vanishes. Wolf is gone.

Great.

I glance at Superboy.

_::: Wolf, ::: _says Miss Martian softly.

_::: There was no indication of feedback! ::: _says Robin, turning slightly to look at Superboy. _::: I'm sorry. :::_

Superboy returns to the ship and grabs the cannon, _::: Can't do anything for him now. ::: _He pulls on the cannon, _::: Let's go. :::_

He pulls the cannon off the ship and hops onto the top of the Bio-Ship Miss Martian summoned to us. With Superboy holding the cannon, Miss Martian begins to integrate the weaponry into the Bio-Ship, explaining as she removes the camouflage, _::: Rerouting systems to integrate new weapon into Ship's bio-matrix. I'll need to de-camouflage for a few minutes. :::_

Robin takes a step back after hopping onto the Bio-Ship, tensing, _::: May not have a few minutes. :::_

Aw shit. I tighten my grip on my water-bearers as two enemy ships bear down on us, _::: Miss Martian, open fire! :::_

_::: Can't! Weapons offline to integrate the new cannon and that's not fully integrated yet either! :::_

_::: Got you covered! Get inside; I'm almost there! ::: _Artemis shouts, sending off two arrows into one of the ships, effectively destroying it. She sends off a third that downs the second ship then she darts toward the Bio-Ship.

_::: Artemis, behind you! ::: _M'gann shouts, prompting me to turn from climbing into the Bio-Ship.

The cannon's already firing though, engulfing Artemis in bright yellow light. The light vanishes just as quickly as it came, leaving behind nothing, not even a shred of Artemis' hair. Just as it did to Wolf.

M'gann shrieks, "ARTEMIS!"

I blink. My hands tighten. Her shriek bores behind my eyes, making them burn.

Artemis.

Artemis…no. _Focus_ Kalla. _Focus. _You are a _soldier_.

Beside me, Wally screams, "ARTEMIS!"

Any other time his scream would have jarred me. Now though, I'm acting on autopilot, my training surging through my body and ordering me to act. _Demanding_ that I do my job.

I push Wally against the Bio-Ship as I dart past him, pulling out my water-bearers and ordering sharply as the psychic link goes down, "Get inside. All of you."

I reach beneath the ice, grabbing a torrent of water and sending it cracking across the ice, obliterating the thick block of ice covering the water and raising the downed ship on a surge of ocean. The ship's cannon glows and I throw the ship further into the air then snap out the water that had been holding it. Twenty-foot icicles form from the cold water and as the ship begins its descent I slam the icicles into it.

The ship explodes.

I can't be shocked at what I just did – I've never done that before, _never_, – all I can think is that there's all this water around. We're in the goddamn _Arctic_. This is the second-best place for me to be fighting in, there's a limitless supply of ammunition and I couldn't…Artemis…

Wally shouts, "They're dead, every single alien, if it's the last thing I do!"

I exhale heavily, my arms shaking.

"Inside, now," I order, fighting to maintain some semblance of composure as my mind races.

I pause outside the Bio-Ship then turn back to the ship we had taken the cannon off. I grab the water beneath it and rip it out. The water arches over the ship as it crashes down into the water below. I slam the water in my control down onto it, turning it to ice. In an instant the ship is frozen in an iceberg that juts out of the water, glittering like crystals.

I stride into the Bio-Ship and order as I take a seat, "Let's go."

The Bio-Ship is quiet, save for M'gann sniffling, trying not to cry, and Wally's occasional outbursts.

I clench and relax my hands periodically, struggling to hold back the tears that want to come, forcing myself to look at Artemis' death from as objective a point as I possibly can. It does not work well. But I know I cannot mourn yet. Afterwards, yes, but not now. Now, I need to be 100 percent _here_. I need to keep my head in the game.

Surely, Batman had a contingency plan for an event such as this. Surely. I know I cannot call on Atlantis for help. Atlantis is fighting its own battles. I cannot call on Roy or Rocket or Zatanna for help. They have their own cities to worry about. They could all be dead, anyway. _Fuck._ I have no idea what to do.

What would Annex do?

A show of force. A display of hope, of pride, of a people that will never back down no matter how terribly they are beaten. He would do the same thing that we did in Tritonis against the Sirens. Anassa and I showed ourselves to the people of Tritonis, showed them that the rest of Atlantis still remembers them, the rest of Atlantis was still fighting for them, that there was hope and that the invading force would be pushed back.

We will have to do that then. Go the Hall of Justice, show ourselves, and pray that there is something that will assist us in the Hall. Pray that there is something left.

I clench my fingers around my knees and mentally recite a scrambled prayer, asking for strength from the Gods, asking for aid from Poseidon - Neptune, if he prefers, - asking for Athena to give me the wisdom to send the invaders to their graves.

Wally punches the Bio-Ship and shouts and screams in fury and grief. I twitch and stand, well-aware of the fact that if I show any cracks, if I – their leader – appear to be breaking, they will begin to feel that as well if they have not already. And we cannot break. We are the protectors. The last ones left. I cannot crack. I must protect the protectors.

That thought prompts the want to cry to retreat and shelter itself in the back of my mind. I stand.

"There will be time to mourn later," I say. "Now we have a job to do – defend the Earth, and make sure Artemis' sacrifice was not in vain."

"Back to the Cave?" asks M'gann, trying to wipe away her tears with her shoulder as she controls the Bio-Ship.

"The Hall of Justice," I correct. "The Human race must know that there are still heroes defending them. There is still hope."

Atlantis already knows that. I am certain. My matim will not let them fall. She will end the invaders, and so will I. I am her daughter, after all.

General Eiling, of all people, is in charge of the soldiers we meet with in the American capital. The man creeps me out. I step forward, having managed to shove down my shaking so that I appear relatively unshaken by recent events and can be said to be immovable in the sense of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. Earth will be that immovable object.

"See? It _is_ Superman! Told you he wouldn't leave us out here alone," says a Private behind Eiling.

"I dunno, he looks a little young, and where's the cape?" his comrade questions.

"I'm not Superman," Conner says, kicking away a stray piece of debris from the craft he had just taken out, mainly by landing on it,

"I don't know who you are son, and right now I don't care," says General Eiling. "You wear the S and you got the job done."

"I'm not Superman."

"Tell that to the enemy," Eiling says. I step forward and Eiling seems to recognize me because he salutes immediately, "General Wade Eiling, US Air Force."

Oh. Right. I must have seniority here with the combination of my Ambassador status, my connection to Annex Orin – may his soul find peace – and my years as Aqualass. Technically, I'm just an Officer Cadet but in such a situation as this…damn, I do have seniority over virtually everyone here don't I?

"Aqualass," I respond, "Justice League. We will help salvage as many of the aliens' cannons as possible, and then we start taking back what is ours."

He, to his credit, doesn't look even mildly surprised by my ferocity. He seems to accept the fact that I am not a little girl who knows nothing of war. I am a person who knows more about war than most others. I am a person who knows what the fuck she's doing. Or, at least, should.

After we've salvaged what we can from the enemy ships we head into the Hall of Justice, which is covered in debris. I look up at the shattered statues of the Justice League's founders and silently recite a simple prayer for Annex.

"They're really gone," says Robin, pulling his gaze off the destroyed statues.

M'gann stops at the removed head of her uncle's statue, leaning against it. I can hear her crying.

I pinch the side of my thigh, silently willing myself to remain composed.

M'gann lifts up suddenly, flies a few metres away from the statue head, then lifts the head telekinetically. My eyes widen. M'gann tosses the head to the opposite side of the room and exclaims, flying towards the Martian picking himself off the ground, "Uncle J'onn!"

_::: M'gann wait! :::_ I dart in front of her. _::: Check his mind. Make sure he is whom he appears to be. :::_

We don't even know what the invaders can do. They could be shapeshifters for all we know.

_::: It's him. He's real! And he's alive! ::: _M'gann exclaims.

"But we saw you get disintegrated!" Conner snaps. "You and Superman! And everyone!"

"Yes," he says, holding his head as M'gann helps him up. "I remember, but I cannot remember how I survived. Or how I arrived here."

"Maybe you were density shifting and the beam passed right through you!" M'gann suggests excitedly.

"Scrambling your brains along the way!" grins Robin.

"My mind _is_ clouded," admits J'onn. "I feel certain I had something important to tell you."

_::: Hello Wally! :::_ Wally exclaims. _::: Come on! ::: _He and Robin dart outside.

There are a few moments then Wally exclaims, _::: I knew it! Look! It's giving off zeta-beams, the same stuff that powers our zeta-tubes! This thing doesn't disintegrate it-it teleports! Artemis is alive! :::_

_::: Maybe, but- :::_

_::: No maybe! ::: _Wally cuts off Robin. _::: They're all alive! :::_

"That must have been what you wanted to tell us!" M'gann exclaims.

That seems farfetched at best. Zeta-beams can, to my knowledge, be used for disintegration. They do dismantle our bodies and then reform them at the arrival point after all. That's their entire point. Besides, what possible purpose could aliens – whom, I might add, we have not seen besides their ships – have for keeping everyone and everything they shot? That would give them a lot of useless paraphernalia. That just does not make any sense.

_FWOOM! SZZHIP! BOOM!_

_::: We're on our way, ::: _I say, grabbing my water-bearers and turning to head outside.

_::: Negative, :::_ Robin responds. _:::__ There're too many. Miss M, camo the Bio- :::_

"EAGH!"

M'gann and J'onn hit the ground at the same time as the psychic link goes down. Conner and I dart to them, him grabbing M'gann and I grabbing J'onn.

Dammit. The Bio-Ship must've…fuck.

I need to contact Atlantis.

"We're trapped!" Eiling shouts as he and the soldiers dart into the Hall, accompanied by Robin and Kid Flash.

I glance at the doors for Authorized Personnel Only as I pull J'onn up. I step towards the doors and they slide open as I remark, "Perhaps not." I help J'onn into the room and explain, "If you can grant us authorization we can zeta to the Cave."

"I can only authorize one person at a time," he says as I let him stand on his own.

"The soldiers first," I order.

"Belay that," Eiling retorts. "You six are assets we cannot afford to lose."

I exhale, "Very well."

"Override, Martian Manhunter 07," J'onn says.

/ Recognized. Access granted. /

J'onn moves to the computer and I push M'gann forward, followed by Robin.

/ Miss Martian, B05. Robin, B01. Kid Flash, B03. /

_BOOMKRRRSH!_

I turn sharply. Half of the wall just fell down. One of the soldiers is pinned. Conner darts to the soldier and I grab Wally before he has a chance to dart after him. I throw Wally into the zeta-tube then dart to Conner as he picks up the soldier.

Conner barks, "He goes next."

Poseidon, we don't have time to argue. I snap, "Fine, then you."

/ Private Jason Bard, USMCA04 /

"Can you make it?" asks Conner.

"Sure Superman," Private Bard says, limping forward.

"I'm not – ugh," he glances back at me. I nod to him.

/ Superboy, B04. /

He nods then leaps into the zeta-tube.

_FZOOM! FZZOOM! OOM!_

I dart to J'onn and clamp my arm around his waist as behind us soldiers are disintegrated – or, in Wally's world, transported – by the beams of deathly light. I pull him as quickly as I can to the zeta-tube, suddenly very much aware of the fact that Matim is going to kill me for dying. Somehow. She'll figure out a way.

"They need you more than me!" I snap, chucking him into the zeta-tube. "Go!"

He has all of M'gann's powers, is better trained, and has access to things the Team doesn't have access to. I do not. They need him more than they need me. They will continue fighting. They have to.

I turn to the light.

* * *

**R&R**


	33. Kalladura'ham 26

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_Some lines are from Young Justice Episode 116: Failsafe and Episode 117: Disordered._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, oh so much self-doubt**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_And you, lady? Are you a woman of conscience or ambition?"  
The lady smiled. "That's a question rarely asked here at court."  
"And why is that?"  
"Because a woman of conscience would tell you that she is a person of conscience. A woman of ambition would tell you that she is a person of conscience—only much more convincingly."_

Jim Butcher, Academ's Fury

* * *

**26**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 16, 2010 – 16:21 EDT**

I lurch up and nearly fall off my bed – pedestal – block – cot – whatever. My heart is pounding against my ribcage, a rhythm of fear. My arms are shaking. Everything is shaking.

What just…

"You're all alive!" M'gann exclaims.

What the fuck?

I was dead a minute ago, I swear.

"What happened?" asks Batman.

Batman?

I look up and find myself looking at the entire Team, Batman, J'onn, Red Tornado and Captain Marvel. I have no idea what is going on.

"The exercise…it all went wrong," J'onn explains, clutching his head.

I pick myself up onto my hands and knees and crawl to the edge of the cot so I can slide off it and stand. Or, more correctly, lean against the cot and try to get everything to stop shaking. To my right Conner is basically clamped onto Wolf - he had died though...he - and to my left Robin is sitting on the edge of the cot, dripping in sweat and shaking. Artemis is standing next to her cot, her hands gripping her biceps tightly, clearly alive, I think, while Wally is leaning over his cot, and M'gann is staring at us from her position on hers.

"Exercise?" Robin repeats.

"Try and remember," Batman urges. "It was a training exercise. Manhunter psychically linked the six of you in an artificial reality. You all knew this going in. What you didn't know was that it was a train for failure exercise. No matter what the Team accomplished, the scenario was designed to grow worse. Still, you were aware nothing was real. Including the deaths of the entire Justice League."

I tighten my grip on the cot.

"That is why you hardly grieved, even when Wolf was disintegrated before your eyes. But all that changed when Artemis died," explains J'onn. "Although consciously Miss Martian knew it was not real, her subconscious mind could not make that distinction. She forgot it was only an exercise and her subconscious took control, making all of you forget too."

We all look at M'gann.

She stammers, wringing her hands together, "I-I am so sorry."

"This isn't her fault!" exclaims Conner. "Why didn't you stop the exercise?!"

"We tried," says J'onn. "But M'gann had a death grip on the scenario. Even Artemis, who should have awakened upon her death, was so convinced she had passed she slipped into a coma. I realized I would have to wrest control from Miss Martian's subconscious from within, but upon entering the reality I was overwhelmed by your collective emotion. There was too much…noise to think clearly. To remember why I was there. The deaths of Aqualass and Superboy helped, but only when the mothership exploded and Robin and Kid Flash were silenced did my mind clear enough to remember my true purpose – to shock M'gann out of the exercise before your comas became permanent."

Oh. That is…frightening.

"My apologies," J'onn emphasizes. "I had no idea a training exercise could be so dangerous, so damaging."

Poseidon…

I rub the bridge of my nose as M'gann turns from us and bows her head into her hands. Fuck. Fuck. Just, _fuck._

J'onn's legs go out from under him and my eyes flick to them as Batman and Tornado catch him. I listen, trying to, for the moment, block out M'gann's attempts to muffle her cries.

Batman comments, "As bad as all that-"

"Perhaps worse," says J'onn.

"Yet this is not what troubles you," says Red Tornado.

"Make no mistake, my niece is untrained and cannot be held responsible for this, for our, debacle."

"No one blames her," says Batman. "But clearly we underestimated her abilities."

"You understate it. In terms of raw power, she has the strongest telepathic mind I have ever encountered. Stronger by far, than mine."

I need to punch something.

I shut my eyes. They're burning again.

M'gann is still crying. I open my eyes, release the bridge of my nose, and walk over to Captain Marvel and M'gann. I force my shaking limbs to cooperate and be strong, be firm, do not under any circumstances shake in this moment. I cannot shake right now. I cannot. I cannot be a soldier right now, not…not like in the exercise. I must be a leader. I must be a general, at least for now.

"We will get past this," I say softly, reaching out to M'gann's shoulder. "I promise you that. We will get past this, learn from it, because that is what we do. We are a team." I flick my eyes up to the rest of the Team, they are all staring at me. I repeat, "We are a team, and we stand together. This is a…bump in the road, as you say, but we can work with that, move past it, integrate it, whatever we must. _We are a team._"

M'gann looks up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks, and nods, flashing a lighting-fast smile. She pulls away from Captain Marvel and flings her arms around me, pressing her face to my shoulder and clinging to me, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

"It's okay," I promise, wrapping my arms around her, cupping her head and rubbing her back. "It's okay. It's okay."

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 17, 2010 – 01:16 EDT**

Robin is clamped onto my waist, digging his nose against my back, while M'gann has grown a third arm that is reaching past Artemis and gripping my hand tightly. One of her arms is wrapped around Conner beside her while the other is wrapped around Artemis curled up between M'gann and I. Wally is behind Robin and I see him as I extricate myself from Robin's and M'gann's grip.

Carefully, I climb over Artemis' hair so that I can reach the topmost edge of the pile we had created in the TV room with most of the blankets and pillows in the Cave. No one really wanted to leave anyone else's side. I cannot blame them. I did not particularly want to either.

But I need air. I am slowly suffocating with the people all around me, and Robin has done nothing but glue himself to me all night.

I try not to think of his Bialya case notes.

I climb onto the couch at our heads and climb over it as quietly as possible. I grab my cell from the kitchen table and walk to the door.

::: Nnuegh? ::: Pansy answers her cell phone.

"Hello Pansy," I say as I walk out of the Cave.

::: Fuck you. ::: She hangs up.

I roll my eyes and redial her number.

::: It is like…fuck I can't even read my stupid alarm clock. It's really fucking early I know that much. I hate you so much right now. What the fuck are you even calling me for? :::

"Apologies. It…has been a difficult day."

::: Are you dying? :::

"No."

::: Is anyone else dying? :::

"Someone, somewhere, is."

::: You know what? Fuck you. Yeah, that's it. Just, fuck you. :::

"Apologies. I will call late-"

::: Fuck you. Whaddya want? :::

"I was in a coma today."

::: …what? I…what? You're obviously _better_ – I mean, unless I'm dreaming – but…what? :::

"Yes. Well…yes. No, to the dreaming part. Unless I am dreaming this as well."

::: What…how…I don't…what even is your life? :::

"It's complicated," I sigh, rubbing my forehead. "I thought I died so I wound up in a coma. I thought everyone else died as well."

::: …oh. I…I have no idea what to say to that. Hold up, sorry, my brain is still half-asleep. ::: There's a beat, then, ::: You were in a _coma? _:::

"Yes."

::: Are you in a hospital? :::

"No."

::: Why the fuck are you not in a hospital if you were just in a coma? What the fuck kind of health system do they have in Atlantis? Mother of shit, that is terrible. :::

"I am on the surface."

::: You were in a coma and you thought everyone else had died. But you wound up in a coma because you thought _you_ died. Did I hear all that right? :::

"Yes."

::: … :::

"…"

::: I have literally no idea what to say to that. Do you parents know? :::

"I do not know either, to be honest. And no, they do not," I stare at the ground, at the rocks beneath my feet. I crouch and stare at the ocean. I want to jump in.

::: Hey, are you…you know…okay? ::: I can hear her concern over the phone.

"Do you remember why I said I wanted to be a general?" I ask abruptly.

::: That was years ago…oh god Kalla. Um…I think it was something about how you wanted to make a difference, you wanted to make sure kids were safe, you wanted to make sure people weren't racist bastards, you wanted to be somebody with a voice that was heard. You know, you said it a lot nicer, but that was basically it. Honestly, I think you were tired of being stepped on and figured if you were a general you could stop people from stepping all over you. You wanted some form of power, which, you know, makes sense since we were kids, little girls, we didn't have much power, much of a voice at all. :::

"I was young then."

::: You're still young. God, I know we think we're almighty and all-knowing and stuff because we're, oh my shit, we're _sixteen years old we're awesome_. Well, you're sixteen. I'm almost sixteen. But we really aren't that old, Kalla. I know, I know, in Atlantis you'll be officially considered an adult next year but what do you think happens then? You think suddenly you know a bunch of adult stuff and bada-bing-bada-boom _seniority?_ If that were the case, my brother would not have given himself alcohol poisoning. :::

"He got alcohol poisoning?"

::: It was his own fault. He was being an idiot. Not the point though. The point is my brother is older than us, considered an adult, but he is still immature and an idiot. :::

"You should be a therapist."

::: No. Kalla, I have no idea what the hell is going on with you, but you're awesome and god I hope this sounds better out loud than it does in my head – but you were just in a coma. Don't you superhero people like, die and come back to life five times a year anyway? :::

"I do not think so. Even if that were true I do not think that would make dying any less traumatic."

::: So that did sound as bad out loud as it did in my head. :::

"Worse."

::: Oh. Shit. Sorry. :::

"You have a point though. It will not do for me to just wallow in my personal misgivings. I…will likely do so for a couple of days but…I should attempt to mitigate that."

::: Wait, no, aw shit. That is so not what I meant. I'm an idiot K. Self-care, K, self-care, remember what my mom says. Self-care is a beautiful thing. :::

"Thank-you, Pansy. You should get some sleep."

::: You're the one who called _me,_ you can't just- :::

I hang up.

I stare at the ocean for a little longer then rise and head into the bathroom. I grab a glass of water and down it quickly then splash my face with water.

"Oh. There you are," says Robin at the bathroom door. He looks small in his pyjamas despite his mask – the sunglasses would not have stayed on.

"Robin, apologies, I did not intend to wake anyone," I say, turning off the taps. I grab a towel and pat my face with it. "Though, I suppose that was more difficult in your case. You have quite a grip."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It is well," I smile, hanging the towel back up. I drop the smile as I inquire, "Are you well, Robin?"

He hesitates a beat too long then shakes his head with a forced small laugh, "Fine. Totally fine."

He shifts uncomfortably in his bare feet.

"Robin?"

"Okay, so I'm not fine. Traumatized, probably," he relents. "But you probably aren't much better."

"I can deal with it," I say. "Death and fear are not strangers to me."

His jaw tightens. He sighs, "You'd make a good Batman – woman, whatever."

I frown, "I do not wish to be a Batman, or Batwoman for that matter. I am certain, if you wish to, you could be a Batman. Or you could create your own name. I am sure Batman would not mind."

"You know you're like my sister, right?"

"Yes. I consider you a brother."

He looks up at me. His stance speaks to surprise.

I step forward impulsively and wrap my arms around him. He stills for an instant then quickly softens and wraps his arms tightly around me, practically clinging to me. He's shaking. Poseidon, that exercise really scared him didn't it?

Who am I kidding? It scared everyone, myself included.

_::: Kalla? :::_

I hold Robin's head to my shoulder as I respond, _::: M'gann, what is it? :::_

_::: I just woke up and you and Robin weren't here. Sorry. :::_

_::: It is well, M'gann. We will return soon. :::_

_::: Okay. :::_

Robin pulls away for a moment and tugs at the edge of his mask. I lift my head, looking at the ceiling until his motions stop. I look back down.

"Didn't even try to get a look?" he asks, pressing his mask against his face.

"Your civilian identity is yours to give out as you wish, I should not infringe upon that right," I respond.

"Right," he says, not looking particularly happy about that.

"Dudes, there you are," Wally says, skidding into the hallway.

"Morning, Wally," I say, releasing Robin.

"_Barely_," Wally retorts, coming to a stop beside us. "It's like, two in the morning."

"Did you sleep?" I ask.

"Like a baby, then you two vanished which interrupted my REM, dudes," he says, looking more upset by the interrupted REM than the botched exercise.

I frown, "Wally."

"What?"

"Dude, nothing?" Robin asks. "Seriously? This wasn't what I pictured when we formed this team. People dying, becoming Bats. Not in the plan."

Wally hesitates, "Well, yeah, I mean, obviously this wasn't what I thought would happen. Thought Roy would be the archer, for one, didn't even know about Miss M. But it was just an exercise, wasn't even real, no point in me freaking about it."

"Dude, you're freaking," Robin says, crossing his arms.

"Not really."

I sigh and hold my arms out, "Wally."

"What? I don't…I don't need a hug."

"Well, I do," I challenge, well aware that he is going to continue to pretend to be fine unless I force him to do otherwise. Forcing will only work if he's able to make it look as though he's the one helping someone else, no the other way around.

He looks at me, "You're unshakeable, that doesn't-"

"Wally, I need a hug."

He hesitates then comments with a forced laugh, "Who am I to deny a girl a hug from The Wallman?"

He wraps his arms around me. I wrap my arms tightly around him. I can feel his hands shaking. We both know the hug is more for him than me. We don't comment on that.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 20, 2010 – 02:14 EDT**

In my dreams – nightmares – I see my matim dying. I see my old bullies coming at me, coming at my family, with big fists and hard kicks. I see Patera re-joining Black Manta. I see Annex yelling at me, stripping me of the name of 'Aqualass.' He is disgusted with me, disgusted with my failure. Tula is laughing at me. Garth is mocking me. Topo turns away. La'gaan spits in my face. Lori screams at me in fury. Sha'ark laughs. The League is silent. Silent and heavy. The Team is calling me a failure, screaming their distrust in my abliities. Roy is turning from me, swearing at himself for not having seen how terrible I was when I was right in front of him. Most of all though, I see the sun burning in the sky, and I feel it. I feel the heat.

I wake more than a few times covered in sweat and gasping. Even when I sleep in the pool I cannot get away from the heat.

Tonight, this morning, is no different.

I have sequestered myself in the library. In the back of my mind there is the knowledge that I should probably call Roy at some point, I should have called him a day ago, but I cannot bring myself to do so. I need to get back to normal.

I am sitting in one of the aisles, my back against a bookcase, with piles of books surrounding me and my tablet resting by my right hip with notes made on each book.

I cannot sleep. Not now. I need to get better. Be better. Be the best. To do that I need to know more.

Knowledge is power. Knowledge is control. The fact that I could not come up with a plan after Artemis' "death", at least, not one beyond a show of force for the people, makes it obvious that my attempts to make myself more aware of alternatives have clearly not worked well. I need to have more options in my plans. I need to know more. I am not supposed to be a soldier in this team. I am supposed to be the leader, the general, the commander. I am supposed to be the unbreakable one, the one the Team looks to for guidance. I cannot be that person if I do not know.

I should not be leader if I do not know, and right now I do not.

Wally has only been heading back to Central City to visit his parents and go to school. For the most part, he's been here. Flash has come by, spent some time with Wally. I think they ran to Switzerland. We have a lot of Swiss chocolate in the kitchen. Robin is at the Cave for a few hours each night, rest of the time he is either with Batman or, I assume, attending school in his civilian identity. Artemis has been doing the same. M'gann has been cooking and baking incessantly – we have three casseroles in the fridge – and periodically checking up on every member of the Team every few hours. She hasn't used her telepathy since that time she contacted me the night after. I think she's scared of what she can do. Her uncle has been by more often than usual, a few hours each night, he's stayed for supper. Conner has been attached at the hip to Wolf, except for when he goes to school, and Black Canary has been trying to talk to him.

Myself, I have been doing things slightly differently. I have read more books over the past two days than I read in the past month. I haven't seen or spoken to Annex since before the botched exercise. Granted, I have been avoiding my email because I do not wish to pay attention to anything going on with my parents right now – they are scaring me, they are planning something and it is extremely concerning – because that will simply add to my stress level and I cannot handle that. Annex may have emailed me, but I would not have seen it.

The lack of contact with my mentor is starting to add to my stress. I know I made a mistake. I know I was not at the top of my game during the botched exercise. I know that. Usually when I say that I know that I made a mistake, Annex smiles and says that I did well anyway. That besides that mistake it was fine, I did well, I made him proud, I made Atlantis proud.

It is foolish, but the lack of contact is making me think that perhaps there was nothing to be proud of in this case. Perhaps I humiliated Atlantis. Perhaps I did more wrong than I think I did. Perhaps Batman was right, and while the only person holding me back is me, that is for a reason. Perhaps I was not meant to do more than be Aqualass. Perhaps a part of me knows that.

Another part of me, a stubborn portion I blame my matim for, is howling at the back of my mind that whether or not I'm meant for more than the title of Aqualass is irrelevant. I want more. _What else is there that matters?_ It argues. It has been arguing that for years.

It is screaming and pounding on the cage I set up years ago to contain it because to release it would be to gain more attention on me which would lead to more people screaming at me, shouting slurs at me, shouting that I was not capable, yelling that I was acting disrespectfully and inappropriately. It would just lead to more broken fingers and more doubt. There comes a point where, after being told that you cannot do something, you begin to believe it. I hate feeling like that. So the part of me that screams my ambitions, that reveals the fact that I am no less ambitious than anyone else, is locked up. The part of me that howls that while I thrive in being a simple soldier I still want to be _more_ and I can be more, is locked up in the back of my mind because to scream that I want to be more, that I want some greater semblance of power, that I want to know more so that I can be better, be the best, that I want to stop injustices and balance the dark and light, and that there is a part of me that knows that I _can_, is to invite hell burning to dinner.

I am a vessel of the Curse of Kordax, I am "Impure," I am biracial, I am bisexual, I am a teenager, I am a girl. Every part of me is an invitation for people to shout that I cannot be ambitious, that I cannot be capable, that I cannot be good at my job.

A part of me is petrified that in that botched exercise I may have proved them right. I wasn't supposed to sacrifice myself.

The other part of me, the part of me that pounds on the cage, retorts indignantly, _'Fuck that. The exercise was designed to be unwinnable. I did well. I did my job.'_

I shouldn't have sacrificed myself though.

In that sense, I did not do my job. Indeed, I invited hell and all its fire to dinner.

**09:22 EDT**

"Kalladura'ham."

I jerk upright, all of the blood rushing to my head, pins and needles rushing across my arm as it wakes sharply. I sway and a strong hand grabs my shoulders, steadying me.

"Slow," he says.

I blink and frown at the blond beard in front of my face. Oh shit. I straighten up sharply, knocking my head on a book sticking out of the shelf. The book falls, swiftly followed by the rest of the row.

"Heh, hard head," Annex comments grabbing two of the books and returning them to the shelf.

"Apologies," I say, reaching for the books.

Annex swats my hand away and continues re-shelving the books, "The books do not feel pain. There is no need to apologize."

"Of course," I respond, shuffling to the side to give him the room to finish re-shelving the row of books. "Apologies, Annex, I did not hear your entry."

"You were asleep," he points out. "I suspect you have had little sleep in the past couple of days. I apologize for waking you."

"It is fine, I am rested," I assure him.

He looks around us at the book piles surrounding. He comments lightly, "Been busy?" He picks up one of the books and reads the title, "A History of East European Military Engagements." He raises an eyebrow and moves on to the next book, "The Crusades. Alexander. Manduhai Khatun and Other Daughters of Genghis Khan. The Complete History of the World. Plains Warfare." He sets down a book on Queen Nzinga Mbande and looks at me, "Brushing up on your surface-world history?"

He looks at the printouts of academic papers sitting to my left and thumbs through them, reading a few of the titles, "A history of drone warfare by the United States: The legality and illegality. The effect of the Siren's song on female Atlanteans. The effect of the Siren's song on male Atlanteans. How a history of prejudice affects status: Gilled vs not. Exposure to gender stereotyping and its effect on women leaders. The morality of the Atlantean 'traitors' during the 1990's failure in Atlantean leadership. The ascendancy of the cursed: How exposure to counter-stereotypic blond(e) individuals affects the public's perceptions." He leans back, "A little bit of light reading?"

"Yes," I answer.

"You sacrificed yourself," he says, sitting across from me on the floor. "Despite the fact that I told you when you began that you were not to be a martyr."

"Yes, sir," I respond, my jaw tight, my eyes focused on the shelf right above his left shoulder. "I believed they would continue, unhindered."

"This is not Atlantis, and they are not soldiers. They do not have the same training, or temperament, as you."

I nod, looking away, "Yes, sir."

"You pushed J'onn through, despite the evidence at the time saying that he had a greater chance of surviving the shot through density-shifting."

I can tell he wants an explanation. I have none to give.

"Kalla," he leans forward, one hand on my left shoulder. "It is okay to make mistakes. You learn more through mistakes. Was your death the intent?"

"No. I pushed J'onn through, turned, and the light was there. I accepted it. I died doing my job."

"No, you died doing the job of a foot soldier, not a leader. Your job, Kalladura'ham, is to lead this team. Do you know why you remain an Officer Cadet now, instead of advancing upon your promotion on the surface-world?"

"No, sir."

"The only reason I, and your other superiors, have not promoted you to Second Lieutenant is because you are 16-years-old. Once you turn 17, you will likely advance to the rank of Second Lieutenant."

"That is a quick acceleration."

"You've been moving quickly through the ranks, Kalla, because you've proven yourself. From a Private at the beginning, to an Officer Cadet now, you've moved through three ranks in less than three years. That kind of advancement is unprecedented during a time of peace. It's because you're good at your job. This work has always come easy to you. This is the only time where I have seen you seriously doubt yourself, where you have become stuck. I suspect it's because you never thought of yourself as a leader, so this position blindsided you. You didn't have any time to prepare."

I don't say a word.

He stands, "But the time for doubting yourself needs to stop now, Kalladura'ham."

I look up sharply.

"Take the next few days to deal with the trauma from the exercise, but after that, you need to find a way to do your job properly or that exercise will become reality."

I nod. There is a lump in my throat.

"You agreed to become Aqualass because you found the work at the Conservatory to be difficult, to be too much. You found a way to avoid it, and you took it." He shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Kalladura'ham, this probably sounds harsh, but you have avoided things that scare you – like most people do – and you have succeeded each an every time. But you can't avoid this. You have a responsibility to this team, to yourself, to be the leader they deserve and need. You need to get past this self-doubt, this fear, and take your responsibility by the horns. You need to stop thinking as a subordinate and start thinking as a superior. This team is your responsibility. Their needs are your needs. Whether Batman or I, or anyone else, want you to do something or not is irrelevant. You need to put the Team first and that requires you to stand up, argue with Batman or I if you have to, disobey us if you have to.

"Lead your team, Kalladura'ham. If I have to, I will close off Atlantis to you until you do."

My eyes widen.

"Yes," he confirms, "that is how important this is. You took this job. I am not letting you swim away when it gets too hard."

"When I came to visit, when Black Manta attacked-"

"That was different, Kalla," he says. "The Team would have adjusted fine then, they were newer. But you made the choice to stay on the surface, to stay with the Team, to continue doing your job as leader. So do it."

"Yes, sir."

Like a switch is flipped, his stance as my commanding officer slips away alongside his king-voice. He turns from Annex Orin into simply Orin and sighs, "I am sorry, Kalladura'ham. I am afraid that I did not do my job as your mentor, in preparing you for the leadership positions I knew would come to you, in showing you that you will not always know what to do. I am afraid that I failed to recognize when I proposed the idea of becoming your mentor that I would be unable to be as involved as perhaps would be ideal, as the other mentors are able to. I was selfish and failed to recognize that you would see yourself always as my subordinate and that would bleed into your interactions with the other heroes."

"No, sir, you have been a great mentor, and provided me with an enviable education through my other trainers alongside you."

"That's a diplomatic answer, but not one that is factual," he says. "I made mistakes, guided as I was by my selfishness and hubris, and sheltered in such a way that I was unable to approach the situation from your perspective. Despite the barest of similarities, we are so different in our backgrounds and that makes all the difference. Unfortunately, you have paid the price for my mistakes."

I lick my lips and look at the floor.

"There is a saying on the surface, I believe, something like 'the sins of the father are carried by the son.' I do not consider you my daughter, I find we are too close in age for that, but you are my _adelfí_, sister, and you carry my mistakes on your shoulders. I am truly sorry for that."

I shut my eyes. To be one's _adelfí_ is to be of their chosen family, is to be one precious to them. It is a platonic, all-encompassing relationship wherein the _adelfí _was a woman, or a girl, who would protect her loved ones with her life, as her loved ones would protect her. In the past, to insult one's _adelfí _was to insult the entire family. Battles would be waged in response to the insult.

"Thank-you, _adelfós_, brother," I say around the lump in my throat.

He sits next to me and in a display of informality I still often find unnerving he wraps his arm around my shoulders and encourages me to lay my head on his shoulder. I tense at the informal display of affection, unfamiliar and improper in the court, but in the privacy offered by the Cave's library, acceptable. He has always been more informal than I am used to, but even this is more excessive than normal. Calling me _adelfí _is extremely unexpected, but, I suppose, makes sense. His impending fatherhood must be affecting his actions more than he wishes to admit. I am certainly not his daughter, but I am the closest he has. Perhaps this is his attempt at practice.

As his fingers rub patterns across my upper arm and his heartbeat settles into a steady drum pulsing between my ears, my shoulders relax and I let my head rest entirely on his shoulder.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 22, 2010 – 16:22 EDT**

_Thump! Thump! Thump!_

"I do not know how you can stand long hair."

Artemis glances at me from her position on the treadmill, her sneakers pounding on the belt. She shrugs, "You get used to it."

I climb onto the treadmill next to her and input my usual specs before I start pounding the belt with my bare feet.

"Have you always had a buzz?" Artemis asks after a moment. The casual tone to her voice is forced, I can tell.

"When I was thirteen, before I became Aqualass, Ocean Master attacked Poseidonis," I say, forcing my own tone to be casual as well. "He took out my superiors and was about to kill my king – Aquaman. My friend Garth and I intervened. In the battle, Ocean Master managed to grab my ponytail and jerk me to a stop. I was nearly impaled on his trident as a result." I mime grabbing my ponytail and explain, "I used one of my blades to cut off my ponytail, remove his anchor. It gave me the opening to get away from him, distract him long enough for Aquaman to recover and attack. I decided I liked having short hair and experimented for a bit with shorter styles before settling on the buzz. Less maintenance."

"True. Knots are a pain with the hair I have."

"My ma-" I hesitate. The mention of Matim reminds me sharply of her unknown actions in Atlantis, which I have been actively trying to avoid thinking of. I still have not checked my email. I quickly pick back up again, "My mother has hair about the same length as yours. She ties it back into a braid and weaves spikes into it when she fights."

"Oh." I can tell that she's searching for something to say that won't bring up anything to do with the exercise, "Your mom fights?"

I nod, silently wishing she had not latched onto that, "She was my first combat instructor."

"Seriously?"

"She was scared. Believed I needed to know how to fight so that if – when – her past caught up to her I would be able to protect myself if she wasn't there."

With sweat running down her brow, Artemis snorts in disbelief, "Her past can't be that bad."

"I do not know it all, but from what I gather it was not a past much better than my foster father's."

"The guy who worked for Black Manta."

I nod.

We run in silence for the next half-hour, and then Artemis leaves to take a shower. I leave after another fifteen minutes and head to the top of the Cave, my water-bearers jutting up over my shoulders.

"_ARTEMIS!"_

"_Get inside. All of you."_

I remember feeling the water beneath my feet. Sensing it coursing beneath the ice. Sensing the ice itself. I remember feeling…scared. But my anger…my anger was worse. My fury spoke to me, demanded that I unleash that snowball and encase hell in ice. Demanded that I rip the water from the throats of the invaders and use it to form a blade to destroy them. I was furious.

"_ARTEMIS!"_

I had never made twenty-foot icicles before. That much power had always eluded me. The focus.

But then she died, and my focus was as precise as a laser, because I wanted one thing and one thing only. I wanted them to die.

So I killed them. With icicles and explosions.

Then I drowned the others.

"_The so-called absence of water is not our weakness," _I remember Anassa Mera saying that years ago in the Conservatory to those of us who could one day go to the surface. _"Water is found in everything. Water is everywhere. It is in the air on the surface. It surrounds us now. The so-called absence of water is not our weakness. It is theirs. Non-Atlanteans do not think of where water is. Atlanteans do, and we know it is everywhere on this planet. It supplies this planet with life. So when non-Atlanteans claim an absence of water, feel free to prove them wrong. Some of you may be able to pull the water directly from a creature's body, others, from plants, others from the very air itself."_

She's right. I may be unable to pull water from someone's body, or from plants, but I can feel the water in the air.

"_It may be revolting, but you are capable of creating your own water. You can spit, you can urinate, some of you can even cry. All of that contains water. There is never an absence of water, unless you make it so."_

When I swam home after discovering that most Atlanteans could not cry – no tear ducts – and believed that I was a freak, a horror, Matim said, _"Through your sorcery you control water, Kalla. Tears are not a weakness. Tears are your weapons. When you cry, you create your own bullets."_

Perhaps, I should have allowed myself to cry during the exercise.

I can feel them now. Tears.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 23, 2010 – 17:18 EDT**

"What are you making?"

"Oh, Kalla," M'gann raises her head from the bowl. "Just…cookies. Again."

I nod silently.

Wally is slumped on one of the stools, leaning on the counter. Robin is on one of the couches. Artemis is leaning on another. Conner had just left, called by Black Canary into the room she had set up to talk to each of us about the exercise.

I cannot figure out what else to say. There is nothing to say, I suppose.

I do not know what to do. How to do what my king asked me to. I cannot do it. I simply…I need to go back to Atlantis. He cannot bar me. I mean, he technically can, but, how…I need to go home.

Perhaps I should go to Vancouver, visit Joa. I have not seen her in at least six months. Visit Chevy, perhaps, since Annex will not permit me back into Atlantis if I ask. He cannot possibly force me to do this job. Clearly, I am not cut out for it. He must see that.

But, he does not. He still sees that soldier who desperately tried to stop Ocean Master from killing her king. He still sees that soldier who swam from her fears – the bullies, the Conservatory – and straight into horrors most deem worse – Ocean Master, Black Manta. He still sees that soldier who dedicated her life to her country. He still sees that soldier, part of her wanting to be more, the other part too terrified of the backlash to even try. He still sees that soldier who's passed every test given, who always knows what to do and when. He only sees the soldier, not the terrified girl. He does not understand that I cannot have the lives of this Team in my hands. He does not understand that I cannot handle such pressure, such responsibility. We may have accepted one another as _adelfí _and _adelfós_ but that does not mean that he understands what is in my mind, or that I understand what is in his.

Give me a country, whose population I know as a group. A people whose individual ambitions and dreams and fears of which I am ignorant to, and I can protect those people. Give me a team. A team whose individual ambitions and dreams and fears I know intimately, and I cannot possibly protect those people. I know them too well.

Conner storms out. I know I should go after him, but I cannot bring myself to.

I do not know how to do what I must do.

I tighten my grip on the counter as Artemis meets with Black Canary.

Some time must pass, because M'gann is staring at the timer in her hands, the oven is hot, and Artemis is walking into the kitchen. She's tense, gripping her biceps tightly. Her eyes flick to me, "Your turn."

I walk into the room and sit heavily across from Black Canary. These sessions are familiar to me. I have had to go through a few in Atlantis – after Tritonis, after the first time I fought Black Manta, after the first insults thrown at me through the media. I know how these sessions work. I talk, Black Canary listens, sometimes says things.

Mostly though, I talk.

It is odd. Usually, I am the listener.

I know what I should say though.

"I was the general but behaved like a soldier and sacrificed myself," I say, forcing myself not to draw my knees up to my chest. I need to remain...unshakeable to a degree. Immovable. "I am not fit for command and must resign as team leader."

Annex will have to live with that. I can live on the surface, if necessary. I doubt it will be.

"Who do you recommend to take your place?" Black Canary asks.

I look up sharply, my eyes widening. I had not considered that.

I lower my head and think out loud, "Artemis is too raw and untrusting. Kid Flash, too rash and impulsive. Miss Martian remains too eager to please. Superboy carries too much anger."

"Making Robin the logical choice."

I swallow, "But he is so young."

"You're all young."

In surface-world terms. In Atlantis I am nearly an adult. One more year.

When I was Robin's age I was just beginning to be Aqualass.

Now…

I lower my head, exhaling heavily, "I cannot shift this burden to him, not yet." I sigh, "It appears I must withdraw my resignation."

Annex will be happy about that. I cannot bring myself to be happy about his happiness.

"You're prepared to continue leading the Team then?"

"I must be," I respond.

"Duty," Black Canary surmises.

I nod, "In Atlantis, I have been raised on the belief that one is merely a drop of water. In Atlantis, things change according to the tides and adaptation is the most highly praised trait. Here, to shout of your individuality – within reason, as defined by your culture – to be unyielding, to be immovable, is praised the highest."

I lean on my knees, my shoulders heavy. I begin to run my calloused fingers across my webbing and explain, "My patera – apologies – my father, sometimes describes my mother as the personification of the sea. The sea erodes the land, it can form into great tempests that will obliterate all in its path, yet it can also be the most relaxing and serene of places. It has achieved that great balance between engulfing fury and total serenity. It is powerful but often its power is unknown or underestimated until it is too late. My mother is adaptable but she also knows how to be unyielding. She is the sea but she can operate seamlessly on the land as well."

"You really admire your mother, don't you?" Black Canary determines, leaning forward.

"She taught me everything I know," I respond, "but I have yet to learn how to operate in varying circumstances as well as she can. I cannot do that."

More than once that has led to me being in danger and Matim having to intervene to protect me. It started with my uncontrollable magic and led to today.

"That's what this team is for," Black Canary says, "learning. I know this isn't your home, but you will learn how to work in it. In every situation we can possibly think of. I promise you that."

I look at Black Canary and explain, "Atlanteans do not have tear ducts. I do because my biological father is human, and it is due to him that it is expected that I be more than capable of operating on land as well as I can in the water. Yet, I cannot. I cannot be the sea. I cannot be the land. I am an anomaly somewhere in-between that was never supposed to happen. I am an anomaly that belongs neither on the land nor in the sea. My home is somewhere in-between, and the only place that is close to that is wherever my matim is. She is that balance. Has been since before I was born. And that balance, that…understanding was never supposed to happen in the first place. For centuries in Atlantis it was forbidden. If you were Atlantean, you were the sea, that was your home, that was what you understood. It was the same in the Surface World. But my matim…she bridged that gap. She found that balance, that understanding."

"Your mother – matim – is your mentor."

"I suppose so."

Though now it seems that she is losing that balance she once had, and I have no idea what to do.

"You were the one who acted immediately upon Artemis' death, correct?"

"I suppose so," I respond.

"Why was that?"

"That is how I was trained," I say. "I have seen people die before. I have killed before. Black Manta's operatives are human, for example, and there is no way for us to both protect our territory and keep them alive at the bottom of the ocean. There is no time to mourn, in war."

"When did you start your military training?"

"When I was 12."

"And you became Aqualass when you were 14," she says. I can sense her keeping her voice carefully modulated. She, like many other surface-dwellers, is not fond of Atlantis' policy of military training beginning at age 12.

"Yes."

She tilts her head, "So death isn't unfamiliar to you."

"No."

"You froze one of the enemy ships, though you didn't need to."

"I was angry."

"Did you know that you could freeze an entire ship?"

"I did not."

"But you did it. How was that?"

"Instinctive. It was over before I could think about it."

"But you thought about it after?"

"Not really. We were in the middle of a planet-wide war. Killing was going to happen no matter what. Of the Team, I just happened to take the first lives. That's expected. I am the one trained as a soldier first, a superhero second."

"What's the difference?"

"Superheroes are supposed to be people who do not kill. Soldiers do that and everything else. At least, on the surface-world that is the case."

"Do you find it difficult, balancing both sides?"

"Sometimes."

"Would it be easier if you could be a superhero who kills?"

"Probably not."

"Do you think that we should kill?"

I hesitate before answering, thinking of how many lives could have been saved were the supervillains to have been killed in the first place rather than sent to a prison they just broke out of in the next month. I answer calmly, "I think it should be an option."

Black Canary doesn't say anything for a moment then leans back, "Is there anything else you would like to say?"

"No, thank-you. Whom should I send in?"

"Wally, please. And you can do this, Kalla. You're a leader."

"So everyone keeps saying," I remark, rising. "Thank-you."

It's a less sincere 'thank-you' than I expected.

* * *

**A/N: **Bit longer than the previous one, but I think it works. I mulled over Orin and Kalla's scene for a couple of weeks, trying to figure out how much I wanted to go into their relationship before finally just coming up with what you see above. Their relationship is ridiculously complicated, they're commanding officer and soldier but then they also know a ton of stuff about one another and usually work as a pair rather than as a coupe of cogs in one large team. Plus, there's the impending fatherhood for Orin and the parental issues Kalla's having, so I think they might realize how important their rather unique relationship is to both of them as both the fatherhood and the parental issues come to the front.

Fyi, regarding RL, I may be done the semester but I now have a full-time internship wherein I basically just write for 6+ hours Monday to Friday. I'm drained by writing at the end of it all, so updates will be slower as I will actually have to gather the motivation to keep on writing.

**Cheers!**


	34. Kalladura'ham 27

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, and Skype, are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_Some lines are from Young Justice Episode 118: Secrets._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, discussion of child abuse and discrimination**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_A secret is a kind of promise. …It can also be a prison."_

Jennifer Lee Carrell, _Interred With Their Bones_

* * *

**27**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : October 31, 2010 – 19:47 EDT**

"Kalla, your costume looks fantastic!" M'gann exclaims as I walk into the room.

I put my hands on my hips and survey the others. Conner was dressed as a Mummy, one who wore a Superman t-shirt and jeans beneath the bandages, while Wally was going as a Wolf-Man, and M'gann as a Zombie Bride. I was dressed as a mermaid.

I lost a bet with Pansy. Before I came down I sent her pictures of me in-costume and she responded by laughing at me over Skype.

"Little on-point there, don't you think?" Wally asks.

I cross my arms over my chest and explain, "I lost a bet. And it's really not. I am not a mermaid. They reproduce differently."

"Besides," says M'gann, grinning at me, "this way she doesn't have to hide her gills and webbing!"

I fiddle with my wig, which imitates my matim's hair nearly perfectly, and comment, "I truly do not understand how you, Artemis and Zatanna can stand having long hair."

"Well, I can control mine, so it's not much of a problem," M'gann shrugs.

::: Batman to Aqualass. :::

I put a hand to my com-link hooked into my ear and turn away from the Team, ::: Aqualass. :::

::: We're meeting tonight to discuss the recent Team issues. :::

I flick my eyes to the floor and subdue a sigh, ::: Yes sir. :::

::: 2030 hours. :::

::: Understood. :::

I pull my hand away from my com-link and turn to M'gann, Conner and Wally, "Apologies. Batman wishes to meet with me. I will be unable to attend your school's function." I glance down at my costume, "I must change. Enjoy the dance."

"We'll make it so you can come to the winter one!" M'gann declares.

I flash a stiff smile then dart out of the room as quickly as I can with my stride restrained by my 'tail.'

**20:30 EDT**

"Computer, secure the room."

/ Secure. /

Batman looks at us, "I'll cut to it. Do we believe there is a mole within the Team?"

I step forward, now back in my uniform, "I believe there is none. When Sportsmaster claimed he had an inside source he was merely sowing dissent."

"His intel could have easily come from comparing notes with the other villains working for the Injustice League," Robin says, leaning back in his chair. "And think about it, if anyone on the Team was working with those creepoids-"

"He or she would have betrayed us during our fight against them," I finish.

"I'm not convinced," Roy objects. "Sure, you two and Kid Flash are above suspicion but I know Artemis isn't shooting straight. For starters, she's not Green Arrow's niece."

My eyebrows shoot up, "What?"

I may have thought that when she began but by now it has completely left my mind. It is irrelevant now.

"Well yeah," Robin leans forward, "in fact she's related to-"

"Enough," Batman stops Robin. "Artemis' relations may indeed make her suspect but she is still entitled to a secret identity. I'm more concerned about Superboy. We still know very little about what Cadmus programmed into their weapon. Conner could be the mole, and not know it."

"And what about Miss Martian?" prods Roy. "She _is_ Manhunter's niece but he told Black Canary he has a few hundred nieces and nephews, and the first time he met M'gann was five months ago," he adds, stepping toward me, "when she stowed away on his ship on his last trip from Mars to Earth."

Stowed away? She said that she had engaged in a competition on Mars and won, thereby giving her the opportunity to go with her uncle to Earth.

I widen my stance, purposefully mimicking Batman's stance, and cross my arms, "This changes nothing. I have fought side-by-side with these people. _None_ are traitors."

It doesn't take long before Roy and Robin are sent out and Batman and Red Tornado just look at me. Batman comments after a heavy moment, "Your head hasn't been one hundred percent here, again."

"No, I-"

He cuts me off, "Kalla, you handled the mole issue satisfactorily. What concerns me is that you've become more violent. You purposefully killed the enemies in the psychic exercise, despite the fact that you were meant to be working as Aqualass then _not_ the soldier Kalladura'ham."

I can think of a thousand arguments to defend my actions, but I do not say any of them. Instead, I put my hands behind my back to expose my core, and respond, "Apologies, sir. I will scale it back."

He frowns, "Is it Atlantis?"

"It is merely familial issues," I assure him, tightening my clasped hands behind my back to keep myself from crossing my arms. "I am dealing with them tonight."

"Get your head back here, Kalla. The Team can't afford to have its leader losing her focus."

"Understood. I will do so. Permission to leave?"

He nods.

I leave and find Roy in the kitchen leaning on the table. He crosses his arms, "Your trust is going to get you killed, you know that right?"

"I will be fine," I assure him. "It takes a fair amount to take me down."

"Get a bit of fire and your opponent is golden."

I sigh, "I will call you then."

"I'm not the most reliable person."

"Yes, you are. I will be fine. I promise."

"I don't like it."

I raise an eyebrow.

He explains, "You're on a Team where two of the most powerful members could turn around and take you out, and the third we know nothing about."

"They are members of my Team. I trust my Team with my life."

"Just like Bialya?"

I still, "That was different. Their memories-"

"They've treated you like crap before, you can't just keep on giving them these chances. They're going to fuck up again and it's going to end with you on the floor, _dead,_" he snaps.

"You are welcome to distrust whomever you wish," I say, my voice carefully measured, "I only ask that you stop treating me like I am a fool because I dare to actually trust people."

And even if there is a mole, or multiple moles, I trust that he or she will make the right decision. I trust my team. I have to.

He glowers, "I need to do something, Kalla. This entire thing is suspicious. Don't make me stand on the sidelines and watch you get fucked over."

"I can't make you do anything," I retort. "I'm telling you that I don't need your help Roy."

All of my apprehension over my capabilities is being bowled over by Roy underestimating me. Now, I'm just angry. I'm pushing away my misgivings, my apprehension, in favour of frustration with being continually underestimated.

"This is my responsibility, I can handle this," I say fiercely. I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince him or myself. I sigh, "You said before, in Taipei, that if I needed you I could call and you'd be there."

"Yeah," he says, lifting his head, "I will. You know that. But you and I both know that we have issues with calling people for help."

"I waited for you to call before I dropped in," I say. "Please, do me the same courtesy."

He licks his lips, "Fine. I'll stay out of your way. But," he lifts himself off the table, "if you wind up fucked over by the mole I'm coming in whether you like it or not."

"Fine."

With that, he leaves.

My throat drops to my stomach. I guess a part of me really does believe everything people keep on saying about me, that I can do it, that I can do anything. That, or I ignore my own misgivings in favour of snapping at people who say that I cannot do something. Either way, I am not handling this well at all.

Annex and Batman were right. I need to get my head back in the game. I cannot keep operating like this. I cannot keep flying by the seat of my pants and doing exactly what I get angry with others for doing – underestimating myself. I need to get it together, I need to grow up, or someone is going to wind up dead.

* * *

**Vancouver, British Columbia : October 31, 2010 – 19:00 PDT**

"Right on time," Matim says as I walk into Joa's home.

Her hair is in a braid, complete with spikes. Joa is sitting on the couch, not watching us but I know she's taking in everything.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"I thought we could have a little mother-daughter excursion. Deal with a particularly brutal skinshifter that Brian's been trying to deal with."

I shake my head, realizing immediately that she's trying to do anything but what we're meeting for, "Matim, what is going on? What are you doing?"

She sighs, "You know that the Purists are getting worse. They attacked Je'ria. They've been targeting us, and with Coci having been a spy for them I fear what else they are planning for us – for you."

"I can take care of myself."

"I am your mother, your matim. I will protect you no matter what it takes, no matter what it costs."

"That is what I'm scared of."

"I know," she licks her lips, regret flashing across her face, "and I am sorry. You don't deserve what's going to come. I'm trying to protect you from the worst and, unfortunately in doing so, you are going to be hurt."

"By what? What are you doing?"

"I confronted two Purist sympathizers in Lemuria a few weeks ago, hoping to find information on the increasing attacks. One of the men was my father, my patera, Neptan. The other was a man he let hurt me when I was a child."

I stare at her.

"My parents were terrible people, Kalla. They hurt me, because they thought they were allowed to, they thought they had the right and they thought that they should because I was cursed by Kordax. I was destined for great evil, and by hurting me they believed they would eventually destroy me, be the vanquishers of a great evil."

I sit on the couch, my mind spinning. Joa is gone, but I didn't see her leave.

My grandfather, my _pappous_, is named Neptan.

Matim exhales lowly, "My parents taught my older siblings to hurt me as well, and they let their friends take turns in hurting me. They even named me Kor'dia'ax. I took the name Sha'lain'a years later."

"Kor'dia'ax?" I question sharply. "That is hor-"

"Don't," Matim orders sharply. I shut my mouth. She grasps one of my hands tightly and assures me, "I can handle this, Kalla. I can handle my parents, and their friends, and my siblings. This is not something I expect you to deal with, but you need to know it now because my patera and his friend will bring that past out and they will claim that they were justified in what they did to me."

My throat is too tight. I cannot form words.

"My patera and his friend work for Angelia Graphikos, that is why we switched our emails. Angelia Graphikos is offering my patera and his friend money, lawyers, counsel, anything they ask for, in their effort to charge me with assault, in their effort in researching my past and bringing up as many illegalities as they can."

"They cannot – Annex-"

"He can't do anything. These are powerful people, Kalla, and I have done a number of illegal things in my lifetime. Settling in Shayeris was done through a mountain of forged documentation. Documentation that Orin only managed to make dominantly legal when he came into our lives. Orin destroyed as much as he could of the forgeries, of the illegality, but he could not erase memories, he could not do anything of the sort. Additionally, Calvin's past activities with Black Manta will come up, as will the mission that led him to Atlantis in the first place."

I shake my head, "What…what mission?"

I always knew that Patera had once worked for Black Manta, and had been given artificial gills, but I had never found out why he had been given those gills. I had never found out why he had been in Atlantis in the first place. It never seemed important or relevant.

Matim explains, "Black Manta wanted him to infiltrate Atlantis. Black Manta wanted him to bring Atlantis down from the inside. It was a long-term mission, and one that Calvin abandoned, but the Court will not see that. They will only see that Calvin worked for Black Manta, that he had a mission that was going to take years to accomplish, and that he was already in deep with the Royal Family."

"They'll have to assume that he's still engaged in the mission. That he's working to destroy Atlantis," I say, my hands shaking. "But what about you?"

"My parents and siblings will try to bring me down. As they were the ones who hurt me though, that will be difficult for them to do without admitting that they hurt me. The Court rarely holds child abusers in a sympathetic light, as you know. But if they come out with everything they know about me, so will others."

"Who?" I ask, fighting to keep my breathing normal.

"I left home when I was 10. Aspasia picked me up and eventually I engaged in cage fights and had sex with anyone who paid enough, on behalf of Aspasia, as did everyone else working under her. That was in the late eighties, early nineties."

"When the military was a mess," I say, shaking my head. "Soldiers would do those cage fights."

"As an added bonus, I was cursed. So if they beat me they beat great evil. They proved themselves to their superiors and peers. However, one day, when the military was beginning to clean up its act, there was a – I highly suspect unauthorized – raid on the place I did most of my cage fights in. They killed my best friend, so I killed them back."

My mouth drops. My eyes widen. I quickly close my mouth and shake my head. I swallow then state, my hands turning cold as ice, "You killed soldiers?"

"Yes."

"You…and the military when they cleaned up tried to expunge all of their activities before then. It's mostly through memories, hearsay and a few scattered documents that we even know what the military did back then. They terrorized people, but then…"

"I suspect that if they hadn't already gotten rid of all the evidence pointing to them having engaged in deals with Aspasia and the rest of us, whether sexual or not, they will be doing so now," Matim postulates.

"So if they bring up the names of the soldiers you killed, you can say what they did all you want, you can say that they acted out of order, that the raid was unwarranted, that they had done illegal thing number one and two and three, but that will not matter."

"No," she shakes her head.

"Because there won't be any evidence beyond your word," I continue.

"Exactly."

"And you had just attacked two high-standing members of the community, accusing them of being Purists."

"Not to mention, I'm blonde and gilled," she remarks. "Calvin is going to be held in prison for at least a few days, and then the military will try to use him to know more about Black Manta."

"They will try to bar me from the interrogations," I say, putting my face in my hands with an ill-concealed groan. "I am too close to it."

Matim nods, "I will go through with the trial – which will likely be a farce of a trial – and I will be interrogated. I will be put in prison."

I can barely breathe.

"Kalla, I will be fine. I can handle prison," she says, grasping my shoulders tightly as she crouches in front of me. "I can handle whatever they dish out on me."

"I should not be on the surface," I say, shaking my head as I lift my head from my hands. "I need to-"

"No. Kalladura'ham, your team needs you. The League needs you. The world needs you. You do your job there. Let Calvin and I handle Atlantis."

"Tula-"

"Tula is going to be fine. She's sending in a tip to some anti-purist soldiers about Coci being a Purist. Coci will be taken down and Tula is going to return to the Conservatory. She'll be safe there, she's pure and Mera is there."

"Je'ria?"

"Je'ria can take care of herself, and Sergeant Knasso is watching her and her family. Je'ria is investigating Arnis."

"Arnis?" I repeat incredulously.

"Coci studied with Arnis' son and both were surrounded by Purists. Arnis might think that you are the greatest thing ever, but that doesn't mean he's not a Purist. You know what some Purists say when they claim that the "Pure" are more capable than the "Impure" and someone brings up you as an argument against that."

"They say that I'm an exception. A blip. An anomaly. Nothing more."

"Exactly. And Arnis is smarter than he acts – you know that. I am willing to wager that he knows that if he were to show himself as a Purist, the majority of Shayeris would rise against him, being dominantly gilled."

"You really believe that he is a Purist?"

"I hope that I am wrong."

I rub the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off the nausea brought about by this hell, "Who else?"

"Someone is a Purist up high, with enough pull on the Royal Court to get them to soften the punishments suffered by the Pure."

"The Royal Court is supposed to be independent of the Monarchy and the rest of the nobility."

"It's rare to get a monarch imprisoned for anything, because of the pull they have on the Court, and the Monarchy isn't supposed to be affected by the independent workings of weapon developers, but…"

"They are," I sigh. "Annex cannot possibly…"

"I do not think he is, but we cannot discount the possibility of him being either a Purist himself or allied with them without solid proof against the theory. Orm, of course, is another possibility, as is Mera, and any of the advisors."

"How am I to stay up here while all of that is going on in Atlantis?"

"Find a way, Kalla," she says firmly. "We can deal with this, for now, while you lead your team on the surface."

"If you get arrested then-"

"I told you, Kalla, I can handle prison and so can Calvin. Let us handle this."

I stand and walk away from her. I pace the room, shaking. After a minute I turn to her and ask sharply, "What else happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"What else can the Court, can Graphikos, can the military dredge up from your pasts that will further damn you?!" I snap.

"Anything else will be from my time on the surface, and they have no command over that, and minimal access to that information," she answers calmly.

"They will find it," I declare caustically.

I am churning out my anger at the situation, my frustration with Matim for not having told me, for having _done_ all of that, with minimal restraint. Matim can handle my anger. I can be mad in front of Matim. Beyond that, I cannot find the will necessary to restrain myself right now. I want to puke and my arms are shaking and my parents might be going to prison and my matim killed soldiers and even _her name_ is a lie and my patera was once working to bring down my country from the inside and _I need to do something._

"I have some experience in hiding information and people from the hunters," Matim responds. "I kept Calvin safe in Atlantis for years, after all."

I press my hands against the wall, digging my fingers into the plaster. I look at the ground and exhale lowly, feeling my pulse racing even as I try to calm myself. I inhale deeply and exhale steadily, pressing my fingers firmly against the wall. I lift my fingers from the wall then curl my hands into fists and rest my knuckles against the wall.

I remark softly, not trusting myself to speak loudly, "And us."

"Pardon?"

"And us," I repeat softly. I look up and turn my head to look over my shoulder at Matim, "We moved a lot, when I was a child. You claimed it was to avoid a bad man. You hid us from him."

For a moment, she doesn't say anything. Then, she nods lightning-quick, "Yes."

"The bad man was my human father, wasn't he?"

She nods, her eyes darkening. Her eyes flick to her lap and her fingers curl into tight fists, "Yes."

"Are you going to tell me who he is, and why hiding from him means that your skills are such that the Atlantean Military will not be able to find you if you do not want them to?"

I do not think she will. Even her hands are closed off.

She answers, lifting her eyes, "No."

I expected that. I still do not like it.

She shakes her head, "Eventually, I'll tell you who he is, but not now." She walks over to me and rests her hand against my cheek, "You have enough to deal with right now."

"You know," I hesitate, searching for the words. With my eyes searching her face for anything she might give away, I begin again, "You know that his identity does not matter, right? He is not my father, my patera. My patera is Calvin. And even if I had no patera, I do not need one."

She smiles, though the smile doesn't reach her eyes, and gently moves my hands down so that she can hug me. With her arms tight around me she murmurs against my cheek, her breath ghosting across my ear, "I know, and I'm unimaginably grateful for that."

"I thought-" the rest of the sentence gets caught in my throat.

_I thought everyone died. Matim, I was in a coma. I think that Annex nearly fired me, because I did not act as a leader should. Matim, I was in a coma because we underestimated M'gann. Matim, I was nearly banned from Atlantis. Matim, I think I may be falling and I do not know how to get back up. I do not know for certain what will work. I cannot swim away from this like I did before. I'm fighting with Roy again and I don't know how to fix whatever is wrong with us. He's always been driven but he's acting off now and I do not know what to do. _

"Hm?" Matim murmurs, squeezing me tightly before pulling away. "What was that?"

I plaster a smile on my face, "Nothing."

She doesn't seem to believe me. She raises an eyebrow.

"Annex is frustrated with me," I finally say.

"Why?" she asks, looking completely puzzled.

"I was a good soldier."

She frowns, "I am afraid I do not understand."

"I was a good soldier, and good soldiers don't question their orders," I explain, looking away from her face. "I was a good soldier, but I am supposed to be a general, a ruler. I do not know how to do that though."

"Yes, you do," Matim says. "You're just scared of it. You're scared of the responsibility that goes along with it. You're allowed to be scared, Kalla."

"No, I am not. I have the lives of a Team in my hands. I am the Protector of the Protectors. Fear is a luxury I cannot afford."

"Then put on the stone face when you're leading your team. Be immovable, be fearless, when you're working. But when you're not, when it's just you and me, when it's just you and your patera, when it's just you and your friends, allow yourself the luxury of fear. Keeping it down there is just going to turn you into a powder keg. One spark, and you're gone. I would know."

"My friends are on the Team," I point out. "I can't be scared in front of them. Not ever."

"Tula and Garth are not, and you can be scared in front of me. Drop the Aqualass face when you're with me – like you have before, like you are now. Because I will be Aqualass then, I will be the soldier, and if anyone challenges that, you can send them over to me."

"We do not want to give you more reason to be sent to prison," I point out wryly, trying to battle the churning of my stomach with some so-called dark humour.

She smirks, "I can do that by myself, trust me. There was one other thing though."

I eye her warily, "What is it?"

"A journalist named Hai'lain wants to help, and he thinks he can do so by publishing a story about me – my past and such – before my patera and his friends can damn me while avoiding the fact that they abused me. Hai'lain wants to help gather sympathy for me, make people feel sorry for me, and in doing so try to sway the Court into being a bit more lenient with me."

"You really believe that will work?"

"I do not know, but it is worth a shot."

"When will the story be out?"

"He wants to speak with you first, about your relationship with me. The only part of Aqualass he cares about right now is the fact that I was your first trainer."

I lick my lips, thinking. I sigh, "It will have to happen on the surface. Can he do that?"

"He should be able to."

"Okay. What are you telling him?"

"Everything I told you. My parents were terrible, with some help I managed to get out, I wound up working for Aspasia and then on the surface where I met your birth-father – whom I promptly left. I had you and eventually wound up in Shayeris with illegal documentation enabling me to set us up with a home. Calvin and I were married when you were 9 in a small wedding. He became your patera, and we've been living in Shayeris since."

"You call your birth-father patera," I note.

She blinks then sighs, "Yes, I suppose I do. He was the only one I ever had. I had other male role models but they were all surface-world and they were not pateras. What I call him makes no difference, I'm still going to try to bring him down."

I remain silent. I think it makes a difference, but I suppose I have to trust that Matim knows what she is doing.

I break the silence, "You mentioned a skinshifter?"

Her face cracks into a smirk, "I did indeed."

* * *

**Brian's Home, Vancouver, British Columbia : October 31, 2010 - 20:36 PDT**

Brian is a tall man in his late thirties built like a refrigerator. His legs are, as expected, reminiscent of a couple of tree trunks and his hands are like a couple of dinner plates. He perches on the edge of the couch with deceptive lightness and a map of the city is laid out on the coffee table in front of us. He's explaining to everyone present what the situation is.

His niece Andrea, a girl built similarly to him, is crouched next to the coffee table, her brown eyes flicking across the map and taking in everything she needs. There's a scar from a bite marring her exposed right shoulder. The scar shines in the living room's light and initially drew the attention of another in the room. A witch by the name of Jesse who's been periodically pulling out a knotted string and clenching it before returning the string into one of his many pockets, overflowing with trinkets I can practically smell the magic of. Matim is of course here, along with two thirty-something canid skinshifters from the Junction City pack named Cale and Tanner.

"Sure you'll be okay without your swords, Spandex?" Andrea asks me with feigned mockery.

"So long as you never try and be Smoky again, I will be fine, Bear," I retort, causing the 20-year-old to smirk in amusement. We met years ago. We've known one another for a decade at least. We are not sisters, I would not go to that extent, but we are cousins at the very least.

"Everybody understands?" asks Brian.

"We have it," Matim says. "We will be fine, Brian."

The group heads out of Brian's home and we separate. I go by the rooftops with Cale and Tanner, while Andrea and Matim head to the street, working to be spotted by she pack of rogue skinshifters, and with a little help from a concealment charm Jesse and Brian take to the streets as well, watching Andrea and Matim.

Instead of simply one skinshifter, as said by Matim, it was a group of four. They were all canid skinshifters, specializing in wolves, and had the look of rogue wolves – matted fur, wild eyes, the reek of desperation. They were bulletin boards declaring that this was what happened when canid skinshifters lost the packs they were born into. None of us knew what had happened to their packs, we didn't even know their names, but they had been responsible for two human deaths and six dog deaths. Brian and his allies had finally managed to narrow down where the skinshifters had marked out their territory in the city and now, besides our group, there was a murder of corbae skinshifters in the skies looking for the rogue skinshifters, and a couple mystics on the watch. We just happened to be the ones who would be doing the actual punching.

Most of Vancouver's skinshifters are water-based, fish and such, or birds, like the murder of corbae, so most of their turf battles occurred in locations where humans wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. The canid skinshifters had thrown a curveball into the Vancouver magical community and had called for some assistance from the more experienced land packs. Cale and Tanner were here in an advisory position and to try and speak to the rogue skinshifters. Plus, their pack had offered to consider taking the rogues in. Brian and Andrea, not being canid skinshifters, would be unable to speak to the rogue canid skinshifters in the same way. They were bears, more comfortable with solitude and small groups than they were with large packs. There was a disconnect.

Within minutes I am watching from the roof of a small apartment building. Across the street, Matim is dressed in a tight surface-world Halloween costume, pretending to be a Vampire. Andrea is down the street a bit, wearing shorts, boots, and a tight tank-top.

I spot the man quickly. He's tall, with a jaw that's beginning to protrude, and a mane of tangled hair. His eyes are quick, filled with paranoia, and even from this distance I am certain that his teeth are the teeth of a predator – many, sharp, and pointed. His clothing appears to be something scrounged together out of a dumpster and he's moving quickly, with three other men behind him who look more-or-less to be in the same state as him. Everyone on the sidewalk is giving the men a wide berth. They have no idea who the men are, but they can sense that they're dangerous. That something about them is off.

::: See them? ::: asks Andrea, turning so that her back is to the approaching skinshifters.

Everyone, barring Matim, confirms that they see.

::: Alpha is the guy in the front, with the purple pants, ::: Tanner reports over our com-link. ::: He's nearly at full animal, going to target Alpha Female Sha'lain'a. Andrea, keep away from them for now. Your scent will put them into a defensive mode. Head to a roof so that Sha'lain'a can draw them into the alley. :::

::: Jesse, ::: Brian's deep voice practically vibrates across the com-link, ::: clear the street. :::

A shimmer passes across the street and everyone not a skinshifter or not in possession of one of Jesse's charms winds up heading down the street, past Andrea, away from the canid skinshifters. The Alpha approaches Matim and I grimace at his movements. It's always awkward when someone tries to flirt with one of your parents. It's even more awkward when that someone is in fact being pushed by his animalistic streak and basically just thinks that your mother would be a good mate.

No emotional connect. It's purely physical.

I have to stay across the street so as not to alert the skinshifters to my presence. I watch Matim lead them into the alley, the Alpha's hand on her arm. Matim says something and the Alpha pulls back sharply, his jaw jutting forward, fur sprouting from his skin, and suddenly he's standing there as a man with a wolf head. The other canid skinshifters do the same. Matim is surrounded by men with wolf heads.

::: They didn't listen, ::: sighs Brian. ::: Move in. :::

I leap off the roof, land on the middle of the road then dart forward. The skinshifter closest to the mouth of the alley turns and darts toward me, shifting into his full brown wolf skin so that his paws hit the road in front of me. He charges forward. I jump, having expected his actions, and flip right over him. From the left comes Tanner charging down the street, clamping his jaws around the brown wolf's neck and slamming him to the ground.

I dart to the side and a grey skinshifter in his wolf skin darts after me while a black skinshifter in his wolf skin heads straight for Tanner. Cale cuts off the black one and I stop abruptly and turn, my arms spread wide. The grey skinshifter the same size as Wolf opens his mouth and I duck down, using my size to my advantage to reach beneath his jaw and clamp my arms around his neck. He yelps and I lift him off the ground enough so that his claws are just scratching against the road. I twist and slam him against the road, keeping my arms clamped around his neck.

"_Down,_" I order.

Andrea darts forward in her bear form and growls, swiping at the other skinshifter. I release his neck and wrap my arms around his snout instead, clamping his teeth together to keep him from snapping at anyone. He fights against my grip but I'm stronger, and Andrea slams him down against the ground as he struggles to get back to his feet. We pin him and I report with my legs wrapped around his neck and his snout clamed between my chest and arm, "Grey one down."

::: Brown and Black, ::: Jesse reports. ::: Nearly have the Alpha. Cale and Tanner are working on Brown and Black. Hold yours. :::

I grunt in affirmation and clamp my now free arm around the skinshifter's snout. He's struggling wildly. Thank goodness for Andrea's strength, not to mention my own.

A couple of minutes pass and the skinshifter is just getting more distressed. I try to calm him while keeping my arms clamped around his snout, but I can tell he's beginning to lose my human scent and only smell the Atlantean. I probably smell like a meal to him.

Tanner darts forward and bares his teeth at the skinshifter. Another minute passes, mostly of Tanner being intimidating, before the skinshifter beneath me begins to relax. Prompted by Cale, Andrea moves off the skinshifter. I wait until the skinshifter lies on the ground and rests his head against the cement. Slowly, carefully, I release his snout and step away from him. Tanner moves forward and nudges his head lightly. Long seconds pass before the skinshifter's fur retracts. He returns to his human form, curled up on the ground, trembling, terrified.

The rogue skinshifters head out with Tanner and Cale an hour later. They planned on staying in the woods for a bit before starting the run back to Junction City. Andrea joined her friends for a Halloween party and Brian returned to his home. Matim and I walked the streets of Vancouver, her still dressed as a Vampire with her hair still in its braid but a trench atop her costume.

"It seems like things were easier back then, huh?" Matim asks when I pause and look into the window of a small clothing boutique closed for the night.

I continue walking and shake my head, "Maybe, but I doubt it. I was a child then, I did not know what was going on. I just remember a couple of times when you came home covered in blood, and the constant assertions that there was a bad man we had to run from."

She licks her lips and doesn't look at me.

"Did you kill people then? When we were on the surface?" I ask.

"Yes," she answers, looking right at me. "We were here, in the city, at a pretty bad time. A homicidal jackass was hunting women and girls like me. When I went out, leaving you with Brian or Mai or Joa, when I went out to find a Joe, get us some money, the streets were tense. They were tense for years. The other women – and girls – working the streets were scared but, well, what else could they do? The police weren't doing anything, the RCMP weren't, though they knew there was a problem. No one was doing anything for those girls, those women. You'd talk to one of your friends one night and the next night she'd be gone. You'd put up flyers, you'd ask people if they saw her, but there was no one. Nothing."

She sighs and stuffs her hands into her jacket pockets, "I wanted to help them, Kalladura'ham. Atone for my mistakes in the past, I guess."

"Mistakes?" I repeat. "You were used."

"Not always," Matim says. "Sometimes I was the one doing the manipulating, and I did a lot of bad things I justified as good. I wanted to atone for my mistakes in the past. Get myself some good karma. I was protective over those women and girls, even with many of them older than me. I felt…responsible for them. That's why we stayed here for so long."

"Over a year," I say. "Every other place we barely stared for a year, if a year at all."

"Yes," she nods. "We stayed here for over a year. The others and I, we had always worked together, stayed together, trying to keep one another safe. It wasn't enough though. Our friends kept on vanishing. One of the Joes I got, he pulled a knife on me. He got off on slicing people up. I broke his wrist, took his knife, then tied him to the bed and interrogated him." She glances at me, "I was angry, Kalladura'ham. I was frustrated and furious that this human was trying to keep me from my baby, was trying to hurt me and hurt my friends. So, I did some things I'm not proud of."

"You hurt him."

"I slit his throat. He wasn't the one who had been taking my friends," she says. "I was furious that he wasn't the one who had been taking my friends. He was just some asshole who figured that if he cut up a prostitute and left her for dead that no one would notice, no one would care. Worst part is," she sighs, "he was probably right. People would notice, people would care, but not the people with the power. Not the people with the ability to investigate sufficiently. Which was what he, and the jackass who actually took all of those women and girls, counted on. At least one of them succeeded because of that. He was arrested when you were 13."

I nod, "I remember that. You went to Vancouver for a week that year. Refused to let me come." I lift my head and look at the roofs of the buildings, "You come here more often than you do the other places."

"That week was something I had to do on my own, and, yes, I do. This place…my friends are mostly gone but, this place is important to me. It's where I had you, where I really started running, where I really started trying to do something different, where I actually _could _do something different and do it on my terms, not because of the pack, not because of D-" she stops abruptly. She looks at me, "It's where I started figuring out who Sha'lain'a really was, not who Kor'dia'ax was, not who the ally of the skinshifters was, not who the girl trapped by her parents, her employer, or her…" she hesitates, "her boyfriend was."

"Boyfriend?" I repeat.

She nods, answering my unasked question, "Yes, your birth-father."

"Did he…did he hurt you? To trap you, I mean, did he…" I trail off, my stomach churning. I don't know if I want the answer.

"I loved him, in the sense of a girl desperately looking for someone to accept her and give a damn about her well-being. It was a relationship built on mutual desperation, which, by the way, is never good. I was used to bowing to the demands of others and he wanted control. He was the only one I didn't take orders from though. He never made me feel guilty for not following orders, he liked it when I challenged him. But, well, I got sick of what we did. What he did."

She sighs and puts her hands in her pockets, "He had, probably still has, issues with people abandoning him. Issues with people he cares about hurting him – whether intentionally or not. I hurt him, but I couldn't let you be born into the world we had cultivated. So, yes, he hurt me, but our relationship was a shit-show. We hurt each other. We learned a lot from each other, but we were just desperate and happened to be in similar situations. It is not a relationship I would ever want to continue today. It was not healthy, for either of us."

"Oh."

"What is it?"

"Roy and I have been fighting lately."

She waits, silent, for me to continue.

"I feel like he's underestimating me, being overprotective and such. But, he brings up good points."

"He knows what you can do. He knows what you're capable of."

"I have blind-spots though."

"Which, I assume, are the 'good points'."

"Yes."

"You're friends, Kalla, you watch each other's backs. He shouldn't be underestimating you, but he's just being a friend." She adds quickly, "As far as I can tell at least."

"Only to me though," I say, crossing my arms. "He's being downright mean to my friends, and he has no particularly good reason to be so."

"The Team?"

"Something like that."

"Then that boy needs to get his head out of his ass, and I'm betting you need to be the one to pull it out."

I deadpan, "Wonderful image, Matim. Wonderful."

"Apologies."

"I do not know how to do that though."

"I am afraid I will not be much help, Kalla. I do not know Roy as well as you do."

"I thought so."

She wraps an arm around my shoulders, "I'm sorry, Kalla. This isn't anything you have asked for. This isn't anything you should have to deal with."

"But it is," I sigh. "This is my job. I deal with murderers regularly. I deal with people who preach racist, sexist, etcetera dogmas regularly. It's my job to bring criminals to justice. It's my job to be an example and to be an example I need to know what is out there that is trying to keep me from being one, that stands against me and everything I represent, everything I am." I lay my head on her shoulder, "If they find out that you killed people on the surface they might bend tradition and charge you. The Court usually doesn't charge Atlanteans with killing Humans, thanks to that ridiculous belief of Atlantean superiority and Human inferiority that the Court has some roots in, but they might make an exception for you."

"Lucky me," Matim sighs. "I know the risks, Kalla. I know that I will wind up in prison."

"Where someone will try to kill you because you're Aqualass's mother."

"Yes."

I swallow, "I should be down there. I should be helping you."

"You need to be Aqualass right now, Kalla. Not my daughter. I need to play this by the rules, or it will just give the Purists more reason to hate me, and you for that matter. We need to bide our time."

"Bide our time, for what?"

"For an opportunity to unmask the Purists in power, and then bring them down."

"This feels wrong, Matim, this plotting. I feel like I'm betraying Annex."

"You don't have to be directly involved in this, Kalla. But I'm doing it, and so is Calvin. Besides, if Orin really wouldn't support you working to bring down the Purists, then do you really want to be loyal to him?"

I tighten my jaw.

Matim continues, "You need to think about this, Kalla. You need to decide if your job is to protect the best interests of Orin, or to protect the best interests of Atlantis."

"What if we are wrong?"

"We aren't. Bringing down the Purists may initially hurt Atlantis, but in the long run what can the outcome of removing the largest organized discriminatory group in Atlantis be but good?"

I shake my head, "Apologies, I am simply…overwhelmed, I suppose."

"I know." We stop in front of an office building and she hugs me tightly, "I know, this is scary and overwhelming. I can handle this. Calvin can handle this. Most of all, I know once you get past this hump you will handle this better than both of us."

She pulls away then gestures to the office building, "Remember this place?"

I stare up at the chrome and glass then shake my head, "No. Should I?"

"It was our first home," Matim explains. "Well, before they bulldozed over the condemned building and put an office building in its place."

I swallow, my eyes flicking across the impersonal building. The sight of it and the awareness of what it once was makes my stomach churn, but I can't look away. Without looking away from the building covering my first home, I ask, "How do you know that I will be able to do it?"

"Destroying expectations is one of the few positive things your birth-father and I had in common." She squeezes my hand and explains, "Beyond that, you're my daughter and I think I did a pretty good job raising you, despite some hiccups along the way, and some blood, and, well, this prison thing." She turns to me, smirking, "I'll be shouting from the audience 'That's my baby!' when you're announced as the new leader of the Justice League."

My eyebrows shoot up. I shake my head, "That's ridiculous, Matim."

She tightens her grip on my hand, "Wanna bet?"

"Matim-"

"Foot massage. If you're not the leader - or a former leader - of the League by the time you're 35 I owe you a foot massage. If you are, you owe me."

I look down at her hand, thrust out to me. I bite my lower lip then shake my head, chuckling lightly. I grasp her hand and shake, still chuckling, "Fine. Deal."

"Easiest foot massage ever."

* * *

**A/N: **Originally, this was going to be a Sha'lain'a chapter. But no.

**R&R**


	35. Kalladura'ham 28

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, Harry Potter and The Little Mermaid, are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_Some lines are from Young Justice Episode 119: Misplaced._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, gore, child deaths**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_To command is to serve, nothing more and nothing less."_

Andre Malraux

* * *

**28**

**Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : November 3, 2010 – 20:14 EDT**

Happy Harbor is not a particularly magical place, apparently.

"Well, that was fruitless," Zatanna comments as we walk out of the alley.

We had been trying to locate some sort of magical area in Happy Harbor where we could do magic freely and not encounter anyone who was particularly shocked. We were unsuccessful. Clearly.

"If I do not wish to train in the Cave I usually do so underwater," I comment, tucking my hands into my jacket pockets.

Zatanna frowns at me, "Yeah, great. I can't do that."

"There are charms which would leave your mouth free to speak."

"I'd need to practice them first," she says. "It might work. Eventually."

"Gillyweed would be helpful."

"Gilly…wait you've read Harry Potter?" asks Zatanna.

"Yes."

"I was so jealous of them. They got to go to an entire magical school, and I had to sit in a-" she stops abruptly. She frowns at me, "Wait, was your school magical?"

"I attended the Conservatory of Sorcery when I was 13."

"I am so jealous of you. Did it finish at 13, or did you switch schools or something?"

"I was 13 when I started my training to be Aqualass, so my education shifted to better accommodate an unpredictable schedule. I was privately tutored, as a result."

"Was?"

"Because I was privately tutored I could accelerate through my studies at a pace I was more comfortable with, which was faster than the Atlantean educational system. Technically, I am as you would put it, graduated. My education now is merely to supplement my work."

"So you're Aqualass full-time?"

"Yes."

"Which is why you're always in uniform."

"Yes."

Zatanna furrows her brow as we cross the street, "So, what does being Aqualass entail? Because I equate being a superheroine to nothing more than kicking bad guys in the butt."

"It is…complicated. I am also a soldier of Atlantis so I have those duties to uphold, which is more writing than most people think. I also have a few assignments I need to do, on the order of my king, which I believe he thinks will make me a better Aqualass. I also have my duties to the Team. As a result, I have many reports to read, many reports to write, I have to study such things as strategy and tactics, come up with new formations – which we will then practice during training, - keep abreast of my email inbox which keeps me aware of current issues since I am also a makeshift Ambassador for Atlantis, I must keep myself informed of the enemies of the League and Atlantis, offer advice when my king asks for it on matters he is less well-versed in than myself - of course, this doesn't happen often, - often I must travel to Atlantis to be present at important events, I also have to keep in touch with the media team for Aqualass who inform me of any interviews I have to give and brief me on any issues involving Aqualass' public identity...things such as that."

"Wow. Okay. I have school and magic training."

"Oh, I also have to keep up on my physical training," I add quickly.

Zatanna stares at me, her eyes wide, "How many hours a week do you work?"

"It does not feel like work," I smile. "However, technically I work around 60 hours, minimum. More, when adding in the missions."

"Do you ever sleep in?"

"I wake at 5:30 or 6, usually, which is when I do some physical training for a couple of hours. I try to take at least a day off each week though, which is when I sleep in until 7 or 8."

"That is not sleeping in. You're making the rest of us look bad."

"Hardly," I say. "Superheroing is my job. I receive money for this, benefits, etcetera. I can be fired from being Aqualass. My king and other superiors annually review my work as Aqualass. This is a volunteer activity for the rest of you. That is, if you are going to join the Team or take on a costumed identity."

She sighs and looks at the ground, "I don't know. It takes so much wheedling to get my dad to even let me come here for a few hours. I want to, but he's so overprotective…"

I lick my lips, trying not to think of my own parents.

"Guess you wouldn't know much about overprotective parents, huh?" Zatanna asks.

Well, there goes that attempt to not think of my parents.

"Not really," I admit.

"What are your parents like?"

"They are…brave. Rash, at times, but brave. They've made many mistakes but they stand by them as being valuable…usually." I sigh, "My matim – mother – makes jewellery and is particularly skilled at charms. She first taught me how to fight. My patera – father – is as interested in technology as Robin, and knows much about surface-world firearms."

"Surface-world firearms?"

"He was born human, but he joined Black Manta and Manta altered him to infiltrate Atlantis as a gilled water-breather," I explain. "He defected from Black Manta though, met my matim, and became my foster father."

"That's so cute. Do you know your birth-father?"

"No. All I know is that my matim hates him, so I probably should not wish to meet him."

Zatanna is silent for a moment then looks up at me as we turn onto the beach and begin walking up it to get to the Cave. She asks, "Do you want to meet him?"

I sigh, "A part of me does, now, just to see…"

See if he is truly as bad as matim seems to believe he is, or if that is simply a lie used to cover a secret.

"See what?" Zatanna asks.

I shake my head, "It is irrelevant. Another part of me does not wish to meet him, because I fear that if I were to I would break his jaw for making my matim hate him as much as she does. All I know about my birth-father is that he is a black human male."

"Huh. Sucks. So…" Zatanna hesitates, "you know about the thing with Harm, right?"

"I do. The Team is required to submit reports after each altercation they have, particularly with a supervillain. He used the Sword of Beowulf. You and Artemis did a good job."

"Um, thanks. I've been looking into the sword, mainly out of curiosity, and I've found some more information on other mystic weapons from, uh, the surface-world. Atlantis probably has a bunch of mystic weapons, right? I mean, your entire society is a combination of science and magic so…"

"Yes, there are a few," I confirm.

"What are they?"

I exhale heavily, "Most are scattered across Atlantis and restricted from the general population, secured even more than the most dangerous prisoners they are so powerful. A few have postulated that Ocean Master uses one of Atlantis' ancient tridents, one that augments the user's inborn mystical power."

"What can it do, this trident?"

"Most notably, it can take a person's magic away and store it in the weapon to be used by the weapon's user. It can do virtually anything its user can do, simply at a greater strength."

"What kind of greater strength?"

I do not wish to tell her. Surface-dwellers get nervous when they learn of the power of Atlantis' weapons. They get fearful and fearful people do dangerous and rash things.

Still, I answer, "Some of the mystic weapons of Atlantis can sink entire continents. Some historians believe that it was one of Atlantis' own weapons that contributed to its sinking in ancient times. The most feared Atlantean in Atlantis' history is Kordax, one who wielded a variety of mystic weapons and succeeded in damaging the population of the Atlantic Ocean to such a degree that it took generations before the population was back to safe levels."

"Surface sorcerers have talked about a few weapons like that on the surface, but only maybe four or five," remarks Zatanna.

"Atlantis has more."

"Remind me never to get on Atlantis' bad side."

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : November 5, 2010 – 19:47 EDT**

"Did you get everything?" asks Batman as Conner and M'gann arrive with crates and groceries. Beside him are Zatara and Red Tornado. Zatara had arrived with Zatanna, which I suspect was not in his original plan. I do hope she gets to join the Team, I think the experience would be valuable for her.

"Everything on your list, Batman. Plus groceries," M'gann answers, lowering one set of the groceries.

Wally darts towards the groceries, eager, "Cookie fixin's?"

"Snickerdoodles."

"Babe, you rock my world."

I sigh at Wally as I begin to unhook the crates Conner had been carrying. I may have to speak with Wally about his continual attempts to flirt with M'gann, I know it irritated me when he did it to me I suspect that it is the same with M'gann. I should probably speak with M'gann first though...yes that will have to be added to my list.

"Good trip?" I ask as Conner moves to the hook beside me and begins working on that. Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of Zatanna and Artemis stepping out of the elevator.

Conner shrugs noncommittally, as I had expected.

I flip the unhooked strap over the crates then grab one of the topmost crates and set it on the ground. Conner mimics my actions and we move on to the next hook.

_CRASH!_

"Dad!"

I lift my head sharply. Where Batman, Zatara and Red Tornado were is no one, and the boxes they had been carrying were spilled across the ground. My channels are tingling.

Zatanna darts forward, reaching out as if her father is invisible, "Dad?"

"They just…vanished," M'gann gapes. The tingle is fading, but is unmistakeably still there.

"Zatanna," I snap.

She looks sharply at me.

"Can you feel it?" I ask.

She hesitates then shakes her head. She stops, shuts her eyes, then nods, "Yeah. Yeah, there's a mystic force. It's faint. You can feel it?"

I nod.

"But I thought you-"

"Ancient Magic," I say and all of the blood disappears from her face. I put a hand to my com-link, "Aqualass to Watchtower." Nothing. Aqualass to the Hall of Justice." Nothing. "Aqualass to Atlantis." Nothing. ""Aqualass to Red Arrow."

"What just – is the entire League gone?" asks Robin, stepping forward and pulling up his holographic wrist-computer.

"Kid, quick recon on Happy Harbor," I order, my mind racing as I work to try and entertain each possibility. It could just be the Justice League. It could just be those three.

It takes a matter of seconds before Kid Flash reports over our com-link, ::: There aren't any adults here. No one over eighteen. Who – _what _could – wait, I've got a kid in a car. :::

"Kids online saying the same thing," Robin reports, looking at his holographic wrist-computer. "They're panicking."

What in the world is going on?

"Kalla?" M'gann asks, looking far too pale for a Martian. "Kalla, what do we do?"

Okay. _Priorities_. Adults do…everything. Biggest threat then.

"Zatanna, M'gann, Robin, use the Bio-Ship and start on aircraft," I order.

Zatanna turns white as snow, "Planes?"

"Let's go," Robin orders, darting into the Bio-Ship with M'gann. "We need someone on hospitals."

"Superboy, you're on the hospitals with Kid. Prioritize. Children's hospitals first. Get the older kids to help." I put a hand to my com-link, "Did you get that, Kid?"

::: Got it. You taking the Super-Cycle, Supey? :::

I dart to the elevator and gesture to Artemis, "Artemis, you're with me."

"You don't seriously think that adults all over the planet are gone, do you?" Artemis questions as we ascend in the elevator.

"It is a possibility we need to consider," I answer. "I hope I am wrong." I dart into the War Room and pull up a few screens and a keyboard, "For now, while the others are dealing with that I need you to contact everyone on this list," I pull up the very short list of underage superheroes Batman had been compiling and investigating. "Contact your friends, family, whomever, monitor Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, etcetera, and start putting together a rough map of how far this has gone."

"You want me to monitor the Internet," Artemis sums up, taking my place at the controls.

"Basically," I nod.

"What are you doing?" asks Artemis, simultaneously typing as I pull up another screen.

"Trying to get in touch with my contacts," I explain and start sending a series of communiqués to Pansy, the kids of Junction City's West Pack, and to everyone from Atlantis on my contact list. I quickly get in touch with Pansy and her face pops up via a vid-call in a matter of minutes.

::: What the _fuck_ is going on, K? ::: she demands, looking panicked. She's clearly holding her phone up while trying to talk to me, and resting in her right arm is a toddler clinging to a stuffed fox. ::: I nearly crashed into, like, fuck – oh shit, oh ship, don't say that kids – seventeen cars when my mom _vanished_ from the _fuck-fudging driver's seat!_ :::

"I don't know," I answer.

::: Oh shi…ship, if you don't then…oh ship, ::: Pansy groans. ::: Fudge my mother-fudging life! :::

"Pansy, you need to keep it together. We will figure out what is going on and _we will fix it_ but you need to keep it together right now."

::: Okay, ::: she says, looking solemnly at me. She swallows, ::: Okay. I can do this. I got this. I'm good. I've got a train of kids with me, ::: she tilts the phone down to reveal the train of kids behind her, all wide-eyed, all scared, ::: but I'm good. :::

"You're still in contact with the webmasters of _The Boy Wonder_ and _Teen Speedster_?"

::: Yeah, ::: she confirms and the image of her and the toddler in her arm settles as the conversation turns to something she knows inside-and-out.

"I'll be sending you some things. I need you to disseminate them into posts, tweets, whatever, and send them out. Get them to every webmaster you know."

::: You want me to spread it across all of the fansite's channels. :::

"Every place you can think of, I want the information out there," I nod. "I just sent you a few documents on first-aid and emergency response. We don't have enough people to check out every injured child and teenager so I need you to get the word out that anyone trained in first aid is going to need to use it. If they can get to hospitals, it would be fantastic if they could go there and help any children there. I need groups to head to the maternity wards, make sure newborns are okay, etcetera. If there's a children's hospital nearby, head there."

::: Okay. Got it. I can do this. :::

"Good. Contact your friends, get them to help. If some of the older kids, preferably ones trained in first-aid or at least with first-aid supplies, can start heading down the major roads to get children out of cars, that would be awesome."

::: Yeah, that's where I got this train. There was no way I could drive through that jam. All of the cars are still in the roads- ::: she turns her phone to show me the traffic jam, comprised of crashed cars and in general being a pain, ::: see? :::

"You need to be the information hub, Pansy. I need you on 24/7 right now. Drink some caffeine, have an energy drink, I don't care. I need you on."

::: Yeah, I got it. Soon as I get to a computer I'll start working on that first-aid stuff you sent over – now where...hold up, there's a library down McRae. Do you know if it's every adult? :::

"It appears to be everyone 18 and over."

::: Dammit. Wait, shit – ship. Aw, fuck it. Okay, I've got it. I'll recruit a few people to help get this information out. Call me later. :::

"I will. Good luck."

::: I think you need that more than me. :::

I end the connection and rub the bridge of my nose then try Atlantis again. No answer.

"Pansy?" asks Artemis.

"My human cousin," I answer. "She runs my fansite."

"Fansite," she repeats dully. She shakes her head, "Do you have any idea what we're going to do?"

"I'm working on it," I answer. "Kid, Superboy, status?"

::: I am never going into a hospital again, ::: Kid Flash answers. ::: We've got most of the kids stable. Got the older ones to watch the younger ones. A couple of kids were in the middle of surgery. ::: He hesitates, ::: They're gone. :::

"How many hospitals?"

::: Moving to the second major children's hospital, ::: Superboy says. ::: Has Wolf shown up yet? :::

"I…am afraid not," I answer, glancing at Artemis. "I'm sorry, Superboy."

He grunts in response.

::: This is insane, Kalla, ::: says Kid Flash. ::: What the hell could do this? :::

"Just stay focused on helping those children, delegate responsibilities to the teenagers," I say. "We'll handle the rest from here."

::: Got it, Boss. :::

I move to the channel for the Bio-Ship, "Miss Martian, report?"

::: We're picking up kids from a couple of crash sites, ::: Miss Martian responds. ::: We're patching up the wounded then we're heading to Brazil. It…wasn't pretty. :::

::: We're gonna set up a refugee site in the capital, ::: Robin explains. ::: Then we're back out for the next crash site. :::

::: We picked up distress calls from a ship, ::: Zatanna adds. ::: We tried to contact Atlantis but- :::

"I have not been able to contact Atlantis either," I say. "Send me the coordinates, I'll see what I can do from here."

::: Got it. :::

The transmission ends. I get the coordinates a moment later and pull up the information on the ship by New Zealand. It's a civilian one, stranded, but does not appear to be in immediate distress. We cannot spare anyone for it. I have to prioritize and right now the crash sites and hospitals are priority.

"Kalla, we've got a kid tweeting the Justice League. A train derailed, ripped through nearby houses, took out a ton of cars, her friends are injured. One, _shit_, he got his leg crushed," Artemis says. "Metropolis."

"I'll handle that. See if you can contact Rocket," I order as I sprint into the infirmary. I come back out with two duffel bags filled with medical supplies and continue, "If you can, patch her through to me."

"Done," Artemis nods as I activate the zeta-tube to transport me to Metropolis. Thank Poseidon the tubes work.

* * *

**Metropolis, Delaware : November 5, 2010 – 20:38 EDT**

When I get to Metropolis it's to a disturbing sight. The streets are nearly completely empty, the silence is stifling, and there are empty cars just sitting there. It's like a ghost town.

On my way to the train derailment I come across a group of kids crowded around a kid lying on the ground. There's a trail of blood leading from the car the kid was in down to the pavement and among the cluster. The car had crashed right through a store window. Now, its rear wheels are hanging listlessly a foot off the ground.

"Aqualass!" one of the children shouts, prompting the others to turn. Their eyes light up immediately and relief passes across all of their faces.

The oldest in the group, he looks about 15, has blood covering his hands and he looks close to tears. He's pressing down on the wound ripping across the preteen's belly and staring at me. I dump the duffel bags on the ground and crouch next to the bruised preteen, across from the 15-year-old. Thank Poseidon one of them had the knowledge to put the preteen's feet up.

"What is your name?" I ask as I check the preteen's pulse, faint but there, and move my hands lightly across his head, checking for head injuries. He probably has a concussion. I can feel a lump on his head and there's a line of dried blood running down the side of his head.

"D-Danny," he answers.

"Hi Danny, I'm Kalla. What's his name?" I ask, nodding to the preteen.

"I don't-"

"Lee," a girl of about nine says from where she's sitting nearby, trembling. "Lee. You're – you're gonna fix him right? You're gonna fix my brother?"

I flash what I hope is a comforting smile, "I'll do my best. What's your name?"

"Lina," she answers.

I flick my eyes up to the kid who looks the next oldest and say, "Watch her."

He nods sharply and crouches next to Lina. She promptly clamps herself onto him, hugging him tightly. He turns, moving her so that she isn't watching as I move Danny's hands out of the way and tear Lee's shirt apart lengthwise. _Dammit._

I keep my expression calm as I take in the laceration splitting across his side. There's glass embedded across his chest – I had known that when I crouched next to him – and the only way he'll stand a chance of surviving is if I stop the bleeding, which isn't going to happen just by someone pressing down. _Dammit._

"Lee, stay with me," I say, lifting one of my water-bearers and moving it carefully across his torso, using tendrils of water to tug out some of the pieces of glass and clean his wounds. "One of you, get me a packet of bandages and the hard red case. I need another one of you to grab a stick."

No one moves.

I bark, "_Now._"

Three of the other kids scramble to grab the items out of one of the duffel bags.

I holster my water-bearer and take the red case. I flip it open and work quickly, ignoring Danny's hiss as he sees the needle. Another kid rushes forward, holding a stick. I hand it to Danny and order, "Wrap it in your shirt then put it in between his teeth so he can bite on it." I glance at the kid holding Lina, "Get her inside." I turn to the other kids, "Rest of you, go with them. Danny, put Lee's head in your lap." Danny rests Lee's head in his lap then puts the stick in his mouth as he groans.

"Lee, my name is Kalla," I say as I prep my supplies. "Danny is holding your head and he's going to be there the entire time. I promise, I'll be here as well. This is going to hurt, so I want you to bite down as hard as you can on the stick. Don't worry Lee, everything is going to be fine, but I need you to fight for your sister, okay? For Lina."

::: Aqualass, I've got Rocket. :::

"Give me a minute Artemis."

I start stitching up Lee, having to pin his legs with my knee to keep him from moving too much.

Lee eventually passes out and I finish the battlefield stitches quickly then cover the stitches in bandages. I hand the duffel bag to Danny once I'm done, "This will have plenty of supplies to help others. Try not to move him too much. You will have to get him inside though, so make a stretcher from some of the materials around here."

"You're not stay-"

"Train derailment," I say and he shuts his mouth sharply. "You can do this Danny."

With that, I sprint off carrying the remaining duffel bag.

"Okay Artemis, patch her through," I say.

::: Done. :::

::: Aqualass? ::: Rocket asks.

"Rocket, I wish we could speak under better circumstances," I comment as I leap onto a vehicle crashed into a fire hydrant and sprint across the next few vehicles.

She snorts, ::: No kidding. I've set four broken limbs already. :::

"How's Dakota City?"

::: I think we'll hold up. We're tough. I've managed to get most of the kids ferried into some high schools and gotten the older kids to start pulling some more weight. Not much fighting, which is nice. :::

"Good work."

::: Is this happening in Atlantis? :::

"I think so."

::: Damn. :::

"How fast could you get to Rhode Island?"

::: Er…that would take me a few hours. :::

I grimace, "If you think Dakota City can hold out for a bit, head to nearby cities and towns. Help out there. If you need help with anything contact the Cave."

::: The Cave? :::

"That is the place Artemis contacted you from."

::: Oh! Right, that weird number. Okay, yeah, will do. You have any idea what's going on? :::

"Magic, I expect."

::: Great, ::: she deadpans. ::: I have no idea how to fight magic. :::

"Concentrate on helping the children."

::: I can do that. Call me in if you need help. :::

I swear under my breath as I approach the derailment. At least ten houses are destroyed. The train had clearly collided with another one, the switch for the tracks having not been engaged, no brakes applied without the driver. I can spot a few children in the remnants of the train, all dead. A stroller is turned on its side, its wheels rolling in the faint wind. I move to the stroller, silently praying to whatever deity will listen, and as I lean over it an infant starts wailing. My dread drops out immediately and I pull the cover of the stroller up to reveal an infant wailing from its - her? the pink blanket would suggest a her - confines. Quickly I untangle the lucky infant from her confines and lift her out of the stroller.

"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay," I urge, my apprehension with infants virtually vanishing. I have no other choice but to be comfortable with infants right now.

I rifle through the stroller, grab some supplies that might be useful, and use one of the blankets in the stroller to create a sort of sling to hold her in. The blanket is stitched with the name _Casey_.

I move to the next child, check for a pulse while I hold Casey close to my chest, then move on.

There doesn't seem to be a hospital nearby. What I am carrying will have to suffice.

::: What is it? ::: Rocket asks.

"Train crash."

::: Fuck. I'll just…leave you to it then. :::

"That'd be best." She ends the connection and I contact Artemis, "Artemis, has Pansy put up the first-aid information yet?"

::: Yeah, it's up, ::: Artemis confirms. ::: How bad is it? :::

"Bad. Ten…twelve houses destroyed. It was a train crash, not just a derailment. I am now carrying an infant."

She lets out a stream of profanities.

"Get Kid or Superboy here. I need speed."

::: On it. :::

I can hear someone sobbing. I head towards her first. It's a teenage girl leaning against a wall with the body of who I assume is her younger brother resting in her lap. She spots me when I'm right in front of her and she immediately screams. Casey starts wailing again.

"What the fuck?! Where the fuck were you people?! Superman was – he's dead! My brother is dead you sons of bitches!"

"Are you hurt?" I ask, crouching in front of her and cradling Casey close, trying to shade her from the worst of the stench. It doesn't seem to help much, as she continues to wail.

The teenage girl launches herself forward and punches me. A slap quickly joins the punch and I grab her wrists, more to keep her from breaking her hands on me than to keep her from hurting me.

"You fuckers – you fucking – you-"

"Okay, okay," I flinch as she rests against my chest, sobbing, the body of her brother clutched in her arms. Gingerly, I rub her back, simultaneously trying to check her for injuries. Minor cuts and bruises, it appears, and with some work I manage to get her off.

::: Aqualass, I'm en-route to Metropolis, ::: Kid Flash reports.

"Bring some water bottles and snacks," I say. "And any extra medical supplies you can carry."

::: Got it. :::

"I need to make sure you're not injured," I say, focusing on the girl. She trembles, watching me as I lift the portions of her shirt stained with blood. "Okay, you seem to be fine for the most part. You're in shock right now, that'll pass in a bit. Can you come with me?"

She stares at Casey, "You...who..."

"I don't know, but her name appears to be Casey," I answer. "Can you come with me?"

She nods mutely, gripping her brother's body tightly, and stands with me. There's no way she'll let me carry her brother so I don't comment. I just walk around the wreckage of the house, the girl carrying her dead brother following me. The smell of blood is pungent in the air, melding with the scent of metal and burnt flesh and hair. I try not to breathe it in.

I need a blanket for her.

Most of the kids seem to have gathered in the street, clinging to each other, some crying, some shaking, all terrified. A few of the older ones are holding the youngest.

Like the group around Lee, they all look up when I approach and the instant someone shouts at my appearance, faces crack into grins and a couple of the older ones start crying. Relief passes across nearly all of their faces. I try not to buckle under that pressure. I just need to do my job.

"Katie?" one of the older girls questions, rising with a toddler in her arms. "Katie!"

The girl behind me hits the ground and I barely managed to catch her before she pitches forward, along with her brother's body. The girl who had shouted her name comes to a skidding stop in front of who I now know to be Katie and tears overflow, "Oh god. _Oh god._"

"Stay with her," I say, laying my hand on the shouting girl's shoulder. She nods. I ask, "Do you know of anyone who's severely wounded?"

She nods, "Y-Yeah, Carver, his leg just…they didn't want to move him."

"Where?"

"Number 1162." She pauses then clarifies as she realizes that most of the houses no longer have their numbers, "The one over there," she nods down the street, "by the black truck."

"Thank-you. Kid Flash will be here soon. Can I trust you with Casey?" I ask, holding up the infant.

Katie nods rapidly, "Of course. Course I...I think my parents knew - _know_ her parents."

We do a little dance to transfer Casey and her belongings from myself to Katie. Then, once Katie has Casey firmly in her arms I leave, darting down the street. I sprint around the black truck and slow as I step over the debris and reach one of the overturned train cars. A far too pale teenage boy with a tattered blanket over him is leaning against a teenage girl who's leaning against the train car. A second teenage girl is working on replacing the cloth below the belt tourniquet on the middle of his thigh. The cloth is soaked clear through with blood, but the tourniquet appears to be doing a decent job.

"Aqualass!" the girl against the train car shouts.

"Oh thank god," the second girl gasps, reeling backwards then turning sharply and heaving. She pukes up nothing, but looks ready to collapse.

"Carver?" I ask, crouching next to the boy.

"Yeah," the girl against the train car confirms. She winces and I realize she has a broken arm that is resting against her side, splinted with a piece of the wooden debris. "I'm Mai. She's Vicky."

"Carver?" I ask as I check his pulse then begin inspecting his leg. "Carver, it's Aqualass. You can call me Kalla if you want. Can you hear me?" I begin pulling items out of one of the duffel bags and note, "This is a decent tourniquet."

"Vicky did that," Mai says, determinedly looking not at Carver's leg. Carver groans.

When it's clear that Carver isn't going to say anything else, I remark, "You did a good job, Vicky. This tourniquet probably saved his life."

Vicky nods, returning to her spot beside Carver, "Right. I – what can I do?"

"Elevate his foot and take these," I say, handing her the bandages. "Mai, I need you to make sure he remains at least half-conscious."

Mai nods as I pull out my water-bearer and begin brushing away the filth from his stump.

::: Here, ::: Kid Flash says. ::: Distributing the water and snacks. :::

"Get them blankets," I order. "I need one by the car with the black truck. I've got an amputee."

::: Shit. :::

There's an instant, then Kid Flash is by us, carefully not kicking up any dirt towards us. He crouches at Carver's foot and quickly puts the folded semi-clean blanket beneath Carver's stump as I lift it.

"You good here?" Kid Flash asks.

"Yes," I answer. "Do a sweep."

"Way ahead of you," he says, heading a few metres away so the dirt he kicks up doesn't go near us. Then, he's off.

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : November 5, 2010 – 21:48 EDT**

It takes most of what I've got to make sure the Team doesn't start beating themselves up for not getting there in time to save the kids that were on the crafts that did go down. It takes most of what I've got to keep from beating myself up for not getting to that train sooner.

Zatanna and Robin take up Artemis' position on the Internet – both the non-magical and magical – and continue working on the investigation on the sorcery needed to pull this off and reverse it. I focus on mobilizing as many underage kids across the planet as I possibly can. I continue contacting Atlantis, praying for a response, and send them details on some ships with kids on them that are stranded in various bodies of water, requesting for a team of the eldest trained Atlanteans there to investigate the ships and assist as necessary. The Team simply does not have the manpower to investigate every ship and get supplies to them. Not now.

I keep Pansy on sending out the lists and advice for establishing refugee centres – taken directly from the League's documents on such protocol – via her email contacts, my fansite, and all of her social media. Within the first hour the hashtags #over18gone and #missingparents are trending worldwide.

Pansy's in constant contact with me, compiling the various intel I send her way and sending it out to the masses of kids plugged in to the Internet. Within the first three hours the follower count, the likes, everything, shoots up for all of the _Not a Mermaid_ sites by at least 600%.

It's obvious within the first two hours that we need to do a planet-wide announcement, a show of solidarity, of hope, of strength, all tailored to kids.

I work on that and try not to think about Atlantis. I don't dare trying to contact my parents. I don't…I do not wish to consider…

I just can't.

Soon, Robin has gotten into all possible methods of communication – every single TV, radio, smartphone, and computer – on the planet and begins the broadcast of myself, Kid Flash and Robin. Simultaneously we have it being translated into other languages – Greek, French, Vietnamese, Russian, German, Afrikaans, Atlantean, Spanish, Portuguese, Japanese, etc.

"Attention, kids and teenagers of Earth. My name is Aqualass and these are my friends, Robin and Kid Flash," I explain, trying to keep my language less official than it would be normally. I need to be kid-friendly, The Little Mermaid lyrics and all.

"We're using Justice League tech to cast and stream to every TV, radio, computer, and smartphone on the planet," Robin says.

"We know you must be scared, and angry," says Kid Flash. "We know with your parents missing there's a temptation to run wild but please, stay calm."

"We will find a way to bring the adults back," I promise. "But for now, the oldest among you must step up."

Robin continues, "Take care of your younger siblings, take care of kids who have no one."

"Protect them," says Kid Flash.

"It is up to you. Please, help in any way you can." I explain, "Scrolling across your screen there are a series of Twitter accounts, Facebook pages, blogs and more that you can look at periodically, or follow, for updates on the situation. Every hour we will send out tips and advice for dealing with emergencies, medical or otherwise. Currently, places to go that have all of this information are listed at the bottom of your screen and can all be accessed through the websites notamermaid dot com, teenspeedster dot com, and theboywonder dot com. Good luck."

The transmission ends.

* * *

**A/N: **I am not a trained medical professional so do not follow what I write for first-aid. Ever. Second, trains probably have some sort of failsafe if the driver vanishes but I'm ignoring reality for the moment. Just pretend that they're old trains and the company behind them have been under investigation for malpractice or something.

Clearly, I've changed a couple of things with 119. We're getting more firmly into AU territory with these updates, and I'm excited because _Rocket_.

Also, I'm frustrated with work so you get a double update. This is Part 1, shorter because together 119 turned into 30+ pages which…yeah no I'm not posting that.


	36. Kalladura'ham 29

_All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, and The Little Mermaid, are not owned by me. I am not making any profit off this fiction venture._

_Some lines are from Young Justice Episode 119: Misplaced._

_**Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, electrocution (the magical kind)**_

* * *

**Maelstrom**

**Kalladura'ham**

"_We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future."_

George Bernard Shaw

* * *

**29**

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : November 5, 2010 – 22:36 EDT**

"Yes!" I cheer, shooting up and flinging my hands into the air. I continue in Atlantean, ~"La'gaan, thank Poseidon!"~

~::: Aqualass! :::~ he exclaims, grinning wide on the screen, his large red eyes bright.

~"I have been trying to get in touch with Atlantis for hours,"~ I say, dragging my hands over my head as my smile refuses to be tempered.

~::: I think we got your messages, :::~ he says, still grinning, ~::: a few teams have been sent out to those coordinates you gave us. :::~

~"So the same thing occurring on the surface-world has occurred in Atlantis?"~ I ask, my smile disappearing.

~::: All those over 18 disappearing? :::~ He sighs, his grin gone and his new expression making him look at least seven years older, ~::: Yeah. :::~

~"Can you give me a report?"~

~::: Ummm…okay this office is weird, :::~ La'gaan moves out of view of the camera and then he exclaims triumphantly, ~::: Okay, yeah. Atlantis is doing pretty good. :::~ He comes back in view of the camera and explains as he thumbs across a tablet, ~::: The Conservatory and like trained kids have been coordinating transport. The military trained kids have been setting up refugee centres. Guys like Sha'ark are in their city-states dealing with stuff there. I helped out with getting some communication set up. Topo's been helping to keep the minds of the youngest off all of this. :::~

He looks up, ~::: We saw your broadcast, by the way. :::~

~"Atlantis is doing well then?"~

~::: Yeah. Not many have been trained for an…_event_ like this but some of the oldest have been trained for if they have to take leadership of a squad or something so they've been kind of taking command here. :::~

~"Good. Does Atlantis require my presence?"~

~::: Um…maybe? :::~ He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

I cannot restrain my suffering sigh.

~::: I guess things are worse on the surface? :::~ He ventures carefully, ~::: What with how many more people there, and well, planes and stuff – I heard planes crashed into the Pacific, South Atlantic...Lots of human kids on there…I do not…_we_ don't have a casualty list or anything yet. That isn't really a priority right now. With the healers and stuff gone though the sick kids aren't doing very well. We are trying to help but… :::~

~"Keep doing what you are doing, La'gaan. I need to remain on the surface, try to end this."~

~::: Okay. I mean. :::~ He straightens his shoulders, deepens his voice and says seriously, ~::: Understood. :::~

~"Aqualass out."~

He salutes me then I kill the connection and rest my face in my hands.

At least Atlantis is doing relatively well.

There are too many things to think about. If this was just national I could handle this easily enough, get assistance from Atlantis, but it is planet-wide. We are on our own and I, as leader, have to consider everything.

I will never understand why all of those supervillains want to rule the world. It is far too stressful.

I want guidance. The entire planet is relying on the Team, and the Team is relying on me, and I do not know what to do.

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes then stand from my desk. I grab my tablet and promptly add to the list I had begun compiling after everyone had completed their initial assignments and spread out to help at a variety of refugee centres.

_Vehicles – planes, trains, cars, subways, ships, boats  
Communication – all social media (Pansy + webmasters of R & KF's fansites), establish info hub, compile documents for (refugee centres, medical emergencies, infrastructure emergencies, areas to stay out of etc.), planetwide video (hope, togetherness, kids etc.), spread to mystic online comm (Zatanna + Atlantis)  
Atlantis  
Areas without Internet access? - get oldest kids to start a chain?, distribute via Bio-Ship etc? outsource to Atlantis? – can Atlantis afford that?  
Refugee Centres – blankets, food, water, first-aid, radios, smartphones, TVs, computers, major cities have one for each district (rec centres, schools, town halls, malls, shelters etc.)  
Medical Centres – focus on largest kids' hospitals get partners to as many as possible, collaborate, distribute advice for immediate emergencies, those already gone?, panic attacks?, R – compile database of areas with immediate medical equipment available and precise purposes…get a fucking medical degree in the next ten minutes_

Nabu would be helpful now.

Is sacrificing one of us necessary though? Could Nabu even reverse all of this himself? We need to know more about how this occurred before I will be able to bring myself to losing one of the Team, or myself, to Nabu perhaps needlessly.

I look up from my tablet as I walk into the souvenir room to find Wally staring at the Helmet.

"I finally got through to Atlantis," I report. "No adults there either."

"So just how desperate are we?" he asks, looking at the Helmet.

"We both know that anyone who puts on the Helmet and allows Nabu to posses him or her will never be released from being Doctor Fate," I say.

"So, not that desperate."

"Not yet."

But it is getting _really_ close.

"Guys," Zatanna cuts in, walking into the room. "I-I'm ready to try my father's locater spell."

_Thank Poseidon._

The Team gathers in the aptly nicknamed War Room. Robin pulls up a projection of the planet and Zatanna holds her hands and wand out to it. Her voice echoes, "Etacol retnecipe fo yrecros!"

A circle appears at the epicentre of the sorcery and Robin confirms, "Coordinates locked: Roanoke Island. You did it."

Zatanna lowers her hands silently.

I ask, stepping forward, "Robin, can you get Rocket authorization for the zeta-tubes?"

He looks at me, surprised, then nods, "Yeah."

I pull up Rocket's cell number and call her via the Cave.

::: Hey, ::: she answers her phone.

"Rocket, it is Aqualass. You are in Dakota City?"

::: Yeah. :::

"Head to the alley off 17th and 6th," I order, pulling up the coordinates for the zeta-tube in Dakota City.

::: Any particular reason why? :::

"You want to help take down the people who did this, right?"

::: Heck yes. But how – there is nothing but a phone booth here. :::

"Walk into it."

::: Okay…but if this is something – hello, ::: she stops talking for a moment.

/ Recognized, Rocket A04. /

"What in the name of-" Rocket spins around, staring at the interior of the zeta-tube. She turns back around to look at us, "Did you just teleport me?"

"Basically," says Robin.

"Rocket, welcome to the Cave. You know myself, Robin and Kid Flash. This is Superboy, Artemis, Miss Martian and Zatanna. Team, Rocket." I turn and gesture to the holographic projection of the planet, "This is where the source of the sorcerer responsible for this is."

"Right," says Rocket. "Is this normal for you guys?"

"This is a little weird," Artemis admits.

"Alright, so what's the plan?" asks Rocket.

I answer, "Striking hard and fast is generally the best way to-"

_Pop!_

"It works!"

Rocket shrieks and shoots into the air beside the boy, simultaneously surrounding the black haired boy of about 10 with one of her force-bubbles.

"Who are you?" I ask immediately, striding forward, "Where did you come from?"

"Quick, read my mind!" the boy exclaims.

M'gann gasps, "He's Captain Marvel!"

Rocket looks sharply at M'gann, "What?"

"Yeah, and I'm Speedy Gonzalez," Kid Flash snorts. "Look, just because he _believes_ he's Captain Marvel-"

"Gee, Wally, do I really have to bring you nachos and pineapple juice to get on your good side?" the kid smirks.

What.

"How did you…" I trail off, staring at the child.

"I transform into an adult, duh," he says, shaking his head. He flashes a grin at Rocket, "Hi. You must be Rocket. Billy Batson slash Captain Marvel, at your service."

Rocket glances at me. I nod and she lowers the force-bubble.

Billy continues, "Okay, so look, there are two dimensions. This one, the one with all the kids," he gestures around us, "and the one Captain Marvel can go to, with all of the adults."

"That does explain the sorcery," Zatanna says. "Split into two dimensions, but that-"

"Is very powerful sorcery," I continue, crossing my arms over my chest. "It goes against the order of the universe, the mystic energies that comprise the universe, so to sustain an artificial split of one dimension into two would require-"

"The sorcerers responsible to keep up the spell the entire time," Zatanna finishes. "Which is why the sorcerer isn't moving from Roanoke. But they would need at least one kid sorcerer and one adult sorcerer to keep this up, so that they can maintain the spell in either dimension without disrupting the already present mystic energies even more and forcing the dimensions to collide with one another again like they're supposed to."

"There are any number of adult sorcerers to choose from, but I can think of only one child who would have the power and focus necessary to uphold this sort of spell," I say, turning to Zatanna.

"Klarion," Zatanna surmises.

"Simply disrupting Klarion's concentration and therefore his spell will not be enough though. Doing so would simply result in-"

"His mystic energy being lost and either one or both of the dimensions being torn apart by the competing mystic forces," Zatanna finishes, furrowing her brow. "Ugh."

"Or the adult sorcerer or sorcerers themselves would be torn apart for trying to keep the dimensions from merging like they're supposed to," I muse. "Our only option then is a coordinated attack." I glance at mini-Captain Marvel, "You can travel to the adult's world and communicate with the League, correct?"

"Yup! What do you want me to say?" asks Billy.

"We need a coordinated, simultaneous attack. That will be the key to this mission, despite the uncertainties regarding our opponents. Striking hard and fast, simultaneously, is generally the most effective strategy against sorcery. We will have to hope that our theory is strong and the two dimensions will revert to their natural state and merge back into one."

"Got it!" he mock-salutes me. "I'll tell Batman!" He shouts something. And vanishes.

I blink, staring at the spot he had previously been standing in.

"That was freaky," Rocket comments, looking between Zatanna and I. "You two sure about this?"

I glance at Zatanna. She shrugs, looking uncertain, "Without knowing who the sorcerers involved are...well, anything is dangerous so I don't really…"

"Theoretically there are very few ways one could accomplish splitting a dimension into two so precisely," I explain. "In sorcery the natural state of something is 99% of the time the most powerful. If all goes according to plan the dimensions should revert to their natural state when those manipulating it are disrupted. It should work."

I hope.

"So…who's Klarion?" asks Rocket.

"He's a Lord of Chaos, basically a god," Zatanna says.

"Think of the most annoying person you know, multiply that by about a thousand, and then add in the ability to do whatever they want," Robin says. "And a cat."

Rocket grimaces.

"That would be Klarion," I say.

"You know, I like cats, but I think I'll make an exception this time," Rocket comments.

"Can your force-fields contain magic?" I ask.

"I have no idea. I know that kinetic energy makes my bubbles stronger," Rocket answers. "So, you know, punching it will just strengthen it. I can store that kinetic energy in the belt too, and then use it to power myself up."

"Try containing Zatanna."

Zatanna raises her eyebrows as a bubble forms around her. She raises her hands and recites, "Yortsed S'tekcor elbbub!"

There's a moment of hesitation, then the bubble explodes into nothingness.

"Dang, that could have made it a whole lot easier," says Rocket, lowering her hands. "Was that backwards?"

Zatanna nods.

"Cool."

**November 6, 2010 – 00:42 EDT**

"The Helmet is an absolute last resort," I state as I put the Helmet of Fate into a duffel bag after we finalized the plan. "It will not be used unless I give the word. Am I understood?"

The Team murmurs their agreement.

I look pointedly at Zatanna and rest my hand on her shoulder, keeping her from following the rest of the team into the Bio-Ship, "Zatanna, you should know that Nabu is searching for a host capable of wielding immense mystic power. We are the only magical members of this team and the only reason Nabu let me go was because of Kent Nelson. If you put on this Helmet, the chances of Nabu letting you go are extremely low. You are his ideal host."

"You don't want me to put it on," she says, licking her lips.

"No, I do not. You have much to live for beyond being Doctor Fate."

"You'll put it on though."

"Because I have a greater chance of being released. You have virtually no such chance."

Zatanna nods. She looks frightened, but resolute. It is the latter that concerns me.

* * *

**Roanoke Island : November 6, 2010 – 01:12 EDT**

With Zatanna having hidden the Helmet nearby, the Team enters. Artemis and Robin move in first, distracting Klarion with their projectiles. Klarion, having clearly sensed his charmed defenses being broken, turns and brings up a shield that successfully blocks the projectiles. He sneers, "That the best you've got?"

He retaliates with a blast of magic that Rocket attempts to block for Artemis and Robin, but fails, the magic ripping right through the force bubble. Superboy, Kid Flash and I advance on Klarion immediately.

A bright red force-field pops up from the pentagram and I'm sent flying backwards thanks to it. I hit the ground and inwardly curse as I roll over swiftly and grab my fallen water-bearer.

I shoot up and sprint around the enclosed pentagram, searching for some sort of opening.

_::: Zatanna, can you spot anything? ::: _I ask.

_::: No, ::: _she answers and out of the corner of my eye I can see her behind me, getting to her feet. She must have gotten hit. To my right, Teekl –who has grown to the size of Wolf – occupies Superboy, and Miss Martian has yet to stop chucking boulders at the force-field.

_::: Can you channel mystic energy? ::: _I ask.

Zatanna answers promptly, _::: I should be able to. :::_

Mystic energy shoots up from the pentagram and on impact Artemis and Robin are thrown back and knocked unconscious. I snap up my hands, barely managing to catch the mystic energy before it collides with my chest. I shout, the mystic energy surging up my channels and ripping across my body. I grit my teeth and look up, glaring at Klarion through the red force-field. He frowns and the force behind the mystic energy increases.

I scream.

_::: Don't shout, Billy. I've linked you to the rest of the Team telepathically, ::: _Miss Martian says abruptly.

I grit my teeth, feeling blood drip from my nose as the mystic energy slices past my armour. I buckle and drag my fingers across the ground. It hurts. It hurts. Dammit, _it hurts._

_::: That is so coo – it's the gem, at the centre of the pentagram! Destroy it, and we win! ::: _Billy exclaims.

I push myself up to my feet and glare at Klarion, now focusing most of his sorcery on me, trying to take me out. Behind him is the gem stuck into the ground at the centre of the pentagram. I turn my head back to where I know Zatanna is – I need a distraction. But she's reaching for the Helmet instead.

"ZATANNA!" I shriek, suddenly numb to the pain rippling across my body.

I whip around, the mystic energy surging across my body as I flick my hands out towards Zatanna. I send the mystic energy slicing past my armour straight into my channels. It surges through my channels and out of my hands as electrical charges that slam right into Zatanna. She screams and careens backwards, the Helmet clattering to the ground behind her.

_::: What the fuck are you on girl? ::: _Rocket exclaims and I see her diving down.

"You just shot your own te – The Helmet? You brought Nabu!" Klarion shouts in excitement, the mystic energy attacking me vanishing for a split-second in his excitement.

I take advantage of the split-second given and scramble forward. The mystic energy returns quickly though and I ignore the pain rushing across my body, the dirt burning beneath my hands and feet as I work to send the suddenly returned mystic energy into the ground instead of inside my body. I can feel my channels beginning to bleed, my nose spurting blood as the strain on my body grows.

"No!" Klarion shouts and I hit the ground next to Zatanna, screaming in agony as the mystic energy surging into my body intensifies. "You're ruining it!"

Zatanna rolls to the side, narrowly avoiding a blast of mystic energy from Klarion, and I push myself onto my hands and knees, trying to restrain my screams. It feels like my skin is being peeled away from my body, like my blood is boiling right out of its veins. Tens of millions of shots are being fired at my muscles from the inside, making me jerk and twitch as I reach out with one of my hands for the Helmet. The tips of my fingers brush across the smooth metal and the glow from my channels intensifies as the mystic energy surges from them into the Helmet.

Zatanna shouts, scrambling to her feet, "TEMLEH OT EM!"

The Helmet flies out of my reach and into her hands. She shoves it on her head.

I scream. I don't know whether it's because I know Zatanna is gone now, or because of the pain, but I scream.

Then the pain is gone.

My head hits the ground. I taste copper. My entire body is shaking from the exertion of trying to keep the mystic energy away from the others and away from my vital organs. My entire body is tingling. I want to cry in relief.

"_**Klarion, this ends now," **_Zatanna as Nabu declares.

I push myself onto my feet, pushing away the trembling, well aware that I cannot fall right now.

_::: Billy, tell Zatara, ::: _Miss Martian orders. Billy vanishes from the link and Miss Martian darts over to me, grabbing my shoulder and wincing at the blood that comes away on her glove, _::: Aqualass, are you-? :::_

_::: Rocket, get Robin and Artemis to safety, ::: _I order. _::: Kid, you're grabbing the gem. Miss Martian, with me. :::_

A murmur of agreement crosses the link and Rocket grabs Robin and Artemis to set them down behind us, sheltered in the corn.

I create a pair of hammers and dart towards Klarion's force-field. I put every ounce of my anger into pummelling that damn force-field. Miss Martian flings a pile of boulders at the force-field on the opposite side, her anger palpable through the psychic-link.

Zatanna!Fate vanishes, replaced by merely Zatanna, then Fate returns, and back again. Klarion laughs, "See? When the world's divided, the Helmet splits too! You're not all here, Nabu, and you're losing hold on that poor, soon-to-be _dead girl!_ Oh poor girl, she gave herself for nothing!"

"_**No, Witch-Boy. Fate decrees her sacrifice will not be in vain."**_

I pound away at the force-field. On the opposite side, Miss Martian does the same. I do not restrain myself, not this time, and Zatanna!Fate sends a surge of mystic energy so immense I can feel my hair stand on end.

Klarion is shouting protests, but the force-field is falling. A large golden ankh is used to restrain him and I turn, shouting, "Kid!"

Kid Flash darts out of the cornfield and in the next instant he's next to Miss Martian and holding the gem. He tosses it up to Zatanna!Fate. She grabs it and recites, _**"Yam eht owt emoceb eno ecno erom!"**_

Four adult sorcerers – Felix Faust, Wotan, Wizard and Blackbriar Thorn – appear on the remaining points of the pentagram and collapse.

"Boy, they sure don't make evil immortal sorcerers like they used to," comments Klarion. He snaps his fingers, "Oh well. It was fun while it lasted." The golden ankh vanishes and he rises, calling for his familiar, "Teekl!"

Teekl bounds away from trying to pin Conner while contained in one of Rocket's force-bubbles, and slips through the bubble. Teekl shrinks back to normal size and leaps into Klarion's arms. They vanish through a portal, with Klarion taunting, "See you later armadillos – unless I see you first! Hahahaha!"

I hate Klarion.

Behind me are Batman, Zatara, Red Tornado and Captain Marvel, restraining the sorcerers, but I really do not care right now. Zatanna is still Doctor Fate.

"Aren't you gonna stop him?" exclaims Kid Flash, looking up at Zatanna!Fate.

"_**To what end? Klarion is Chaos personified, he cannot be contained."**_

"Nabu," I snap, drawing attention to myself. "Release her."

"_**No."**_

"You can't do that!" shouts Artemis.

"She has her own life!" adds Robin.

"Kent would never allow you to-"

Zatanna!Fate cuts off Kid Flash, _**"Kent Nelson did object, strenuously, so I released him to proceed to the afterlife. He is gone."**_

There's a moment, then I step forward and remark, "She is not an ideal host for a Lord of Order, Nabu Although her body has a natural affinity for the mystic forces she is physically fragile and will perish due to the stress that will be put upon her in the actions required of Doctor Fate. There are other options."

"_**You offer yourself, again."**_

"No," I shake my head. "I...am needed here. But I know people who would take the mantle of Doctor Fate."

Zatara steps past me and says, "Such as myself." He lifts his arms up, "Take me instead. My skills are already at their peak and I am physically stronger, better able to withstand the strain of your power."

I start, "That is not-"

"_**All true. But if I remove the Helmet, what guarantee do I have that you will don it?"**_

"My word," says Zatara. "Ekat em daetsni."

Zatanna as Doctor Fate lands in front of Zatara and removes the Helmet. Zatanna blinks a couple times then looks up and her eyes widen in delight, "Dad!"

"Zatanna," Zatara moves forward, embracing her in a hug.

I spread my lips into a thin line, fighting the urge to pluck the Helmet out of Zatanna's hand and just shove it on my head. I need to get my head in the game and keep it there. I have to stay here. Annex was right. Right?

"Remember, I love you," Zatara kisses his daughter's forehead then pulls away, taking the Helmet of Fate from her. He turns to us, focusing on Batman, "Take care of my girl."

"You have my word," says Batman.

Zatara puts on the Helmet to the tune of Zatanna shouting, "No, please! This was my fault! Dad don't! DAD!"

Zatara is Doctor Fate.

I shut my eyes tightly for a moment then open them to see that nothing has changed. Zatara is still Doctor Fate. He rises into the air, taking the adult sorcerers with him, completely ignoring Zatanna.

"_**Leave these to Fate."**_

Zatanna buckles, staring up at the spot where her father had vanished as Doctor Fate. Kid Flash, Artemis and Robin dart towards her.

Rocket lands beside me, hugging herself as she stares at Zatanna. She glances at me and asks softly, "It always like this?"

"No," I answer. "This was a bad day."

* * *

**Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : November 6, 2010 – 02:42 EDT**

I am currently alone in the Cave, save for Red Tornado that is. Technically. He's running diagnostics though so he is out of commission for a few hours.

The others are with their families. Well, technically Zatanna is with Batman and Robin, and Conner is with Black Canary but…it is all relative. Black Canary and Conner may as well be family. Zatanna…

I contacted my parents, Annex, and Anassa the instant the others left, confirming that I was in fact alive and I was, all things considered, fine. Although it is obvious that my parents wish to see me I know that they understand my responsibilities to Atlantis, to the planet, and they are prepared for not seeing me for another week or so.

Annex and Anassa, as the rulers of Atlantis, obviously have to do quite a bit to assist in the recovery from the dimension split. I would logically so be one of the last priorities on their list. I merely contacted them to assure myself that they were well – I never did consider what would happen to those who were pregnant during the split, such as Anassa Mera. It turns out they were still entirely treated as adults and sent to the adult world. Annex was well as well. Contacting them also ensured that they were not concerned for me or the Team or the rest of the League either so that would be another task marked off their undoubtedly lengthy list of things to check on and do.

I need to just…be by myself for a bit.

I need to analyze what happened so that I can get back into a less-emotional headspace and write my report.

The casualty lists are beginning to come in though. A bunch of kids died, either from the vehicles that crashed or from medical equipment failing, or from surgeons vanishing in the middle of operations, or from any other number of causes. More than just Katie's younger brother died.

I checked the lists from Metropolis, but they are not completed yet. Once they are I will have to check on Lee, Casey and Carver. Poseidon, I hope they survived.

We could not save everyone. That would have been impossible. I just…have to remember that.

All of those kids though!

Zatanna lost her father, even though I could have…if I was better suited for sorcery I could have…

I could have done a lot of things.

I glance down at my arms, bandages covering them, complete with charms. I will be able to remove the bandages soon. The damage was not terrible.

I rest my forehead on the desk and my hands clench into fists beside my head. I grit my teeth and try to force myself to smile, to get some endorphins running through my system. The endorphins are there for an instant then they vanish and I rise sharply, beginning to pace my bedroom. The bedroom is too constricting. Too small.

I head for the training rooms. Rhythmically, I begin to pummel the training post. I block its arms and kick its core. Soon, I'm just hitting it. There's no rhythm to my movements. I'm just shouting and hitting things, relishing the sting that arises across my knuckles when I hit too hard or off-angle. My bare foot stings as I kick the post and send it ripping up from the floor and flying across the room.

A frustrated, strangled shriek rises from my throat.

I move to the next training post and begin to pummel it.

_WHUMP!_

I am not as good at long-distance as some others, such as Roy or Artemis, but I have been trained. I can survive long-distance.

_WHUMPWHUMP!_

I can survive anywhere with enough water. I am a survivor. Just like Matim.

_CRRSH!_

Just like Patera and just like Matim taught me.

_WHUMP!_

Unlike those kids.

I can take down anyone. I simply cannot save everyone.

_WHUMPWHUMP!_

I cannot save a 14-year-old witch from Fate. I cannot save her father.

_CRRSH!_

I cannot save a child from an illness.

_CRACK!_

I cannot save hundreds of children from simultaneously crashing land vehicles, ships, and aircraft.

_CRACKRRSHUMP!_

The training post collides with the opposite wall. I had kicked it clear out of its constraints.

Damn.

I can only take down the enemy and then save the innocent. It should be the opposite – save the innocent then take down the enemy.

I toss the training post with the rest of the ruined equipment then head to the showers, stripping as I walk. I stand beneath the spray of the shower for a few minutes then begin to rip off my bandages. My arms are basically healed, but there are still a few spots where blood seeps through. I hadn't taken a shower after the mission either. I couldn't. I just went straight to trying to work on the report and contact my parents, Annex, and Anassa.

Dirt and blood is pulled off my body and swirls down at my feet before retreating to the drain. The water is stained now. Disgusting, like that sewer water in Gotham when we were hunting Clayface.

_Clayface_. When my focus was shot. When my head was not with the surface-world. When I tried in vain to focus but then Bialya happened and I lost it all. Then Taipei happened and Sportsmaster planted that seed – _You really think there's a mole on your team?_ Then India happened and I needed to seize back control. Then the telepathic training exercise that went wrong – the exercise where Artemis died, where I was more of a soldier than I was Aqualass, than I was the leader. The exercise where I lost my focus entirely, where my head was in the wrong place and because of that the entire team died.

It was a train for failure exercise, but…no. No, I cannot accept that. I cannot accept that there was no possible way for us to succeed in that exercise, in that mission. Accepting that will merely pave the way for more beliefs of inevitable failure, for giving up before it – whatever 'it' may be – even starts. People say that certain situations are unwinnable, that certain people are undefeatable. That is based on reputation, is it not? And reputation rarely displays every truth of the situation or person in question. I would know, a king, a monarch who cannot afford to show any signs of weakness, who must always present himself as indomitable, trained me. I could not how myself as weak, to do so would just lead to an onslaught of insults because according to many a girl cannot be training to be a superhero, she is too fragile.

Then Harm happened – Artemis asked me after that incident if Atlantis had ghost stories. I directed her to all of the books in the library on Atlantis. Zatanna started trying to find out more about that sword, and asked me about any enchanted weaponry Atlantis had. Surface-dwellers are always unnerved by the power Atlantis's weapons hold. It always scares them.

Matim knew of that fear and I suspect that she exploited that when she hurt the humans she did. She's killed so many people. She's done so many terrible things, all in the apparent name of protecting those she cares about. My parents were, or are, I do not even know anymore, criminals. They try to stop, but it keeps pulling them back in. Their pasts keep coming back to them.

I lean heavily against the wall, the water rushing over my body in a steady tune that keeps me calm.

Blood does not matter. I know that, I have always known that. Who raises you though…that matters. That _has_ to matter.

A man who spent much of his life fighting for a terrorist, a man who felt such anger that he left his family and started killing, a man desperate for respect, that man raised me. A woman desperate to keep the people around her safe, desperate to prove herself against the assertions of those who said that she would amount to nothing but great evil, desperate to find someone who cared about her no matter what, desperate to destroy any hint of the pain she experienced as a child and anything related to it and so she killed, that woman raised me.

I suppose I really am their daughter.

I have spent my nights before this tossing and turning, dreaming of my parents in chains, of Atlantis turning against me, of Annex shouting that I was a traitor. Of Topo and La'gaan tossing away their figurines of me, of Tula and Garth just looking at me with such distaste that I feel physically ill.

I am their daughter. I am on the other side though, because they wanted to spare me of the horrors of their lives. They wanted me to have better experiences, to _be better_. I suppose that is common, parents wanting their children to be better people than them.

Matim was right to tell me to consider where my duties lie – with Annex or with Atlantis – but I knew the answer even before she asked.

Originally, I was trained as a soldier, but Batman and Annex were right. I cannot behave as a soldier. I cannot behave like an unimportant face in the ranks. I cannot be a soldier.

Those children, when I came to their aid they were so happy, so joyous. They saw me as their saviour, as a hero.

Soldiers are frightening to many children. I know that. That is why often when children are involved, Annex and I are called in, or the soldiers involved manage to secure the area long enough for them to get rid of their more frightening accessories and rescue the child. That is why I had to learn the lyrics to all of The Little Mermaid songs.

I am not a soldier. I am not a soldier because I cannot be one. Since taking on the name of Aqualass my duties have lain with Atlantis. We were born from a warrior culture so Atlantis has many soldiers and many of those soldiers double as heroes. Atlantis does not need more soldiers, does not need more women and men following orders and swimming in lines, their ranks displayed proudly. Atlantis needs people like Matim and Patera, people who question the orders, who refuse to swim in lines, who argue for change. Atlantis needs to change, and the hands of the soldiers are tied.

I cannot be a soldier. The hands of the soldiers are lashed to the will of their superiors. Superiors who, I loathe to say, may be restricting Atlantis from the change it so desperately needs.

I need to be a hero. I need to be a leader. For those children, for the Team, for Atlantis and for my parents.

But I cannot do anything for Atlantis right now except stay out of the way. Matim is correct. If I try to help her that will simply be construed as Aqualass conducting herself in a, possibly, treasonous manner. If I try to help her and patera that will simply delegitimize Aqualass further. It will simply give the Purists more reason to protest against me, to attack.

They are all correct – Matim, Batman, Annex – I need to focus on the surface-world. I need to get my head in the game. I need to play this damn game and to do so successfully I need to keep only an eye on Atlantis. For now.

_Okay._

I grab the soap and quickly lather myself.

_I can do this._

I rinse then shut off the water and stand there, dripping, staring at the tiles on the opposite wall.

_I have to do this._

With my ripped bandages in hand I stride out of the shower room and grab my dirty uniform. With the uniform and bandages in hand I head out of the locker room and bypass the room with the zeta-tube. My channels glow as I keep the dripping water from hitting the floor.

/ Recognized, Red Arrow B06. /

I still with one foot in the living room then glance down at myself.

Right. I am naked, and surface-dwellers have a rather overt objection to nudity. In Atlantis there are rules prohibiting it in particular circles and after you hit 11 you're expected to adhere to those rules, but otherwise nudity is simply…not taken quite as seriously as the Surface takes it.

"Kalla?"

I stomp down my instinct to go make sure that he is okay and instead sprint across the room and to the stairwell. I reach my bedroom in record time and throw on a clean uniform.

"Kalla?" Roy calls from outside my room. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," I say, tossing my dirty uniform and bandages into my closet. I will clean them up later.

"Fuck," he says, walking in. He is in uniform. He crosses the room in three long strides then wraps his hands around my biceps, looking frightened, "You're okay?"

I nod, my hands moving to his wrists, "I am fine. You?"

"I didn't have to do the shit you did." He hesitates. He licks his lips then nods, "Yeah, I'm good."

"What have you heard?" I question with a frown, unwilling to release his wrists just yet.

"Everything, I think," he answers. "You should have been in the adult world."

I cock an eyebrow.

"You're more mature than me."

I keep my mouth shut, though I could argue that.

He frowns, "You're blaming yourself for the Doctor Fate stuff aren't you?"

I sigh and step back, gesturing as I speak, "I am the only other magical member on the team. If I were more proficient, if I could do more with it, then perhaps the pressure of the magical support would not have all been on Zatanna and we would not have required the Helmet."

"It would have ripped you apart, using more magic," Roy points out logically, crossing his arms. "Your arms," he scans the small drops of blood on my channels, "that was probably from you trying to channel too much magic again."

I stare at my arms and shake my head, "Yes, but if my physiology were proper then this would not have happened."

"You don't know that. You're gonna drive yourself insane if you focus on 'what if's,' and you know it. You've told me that enough times. There's still a chance that Zatanna can get her dad back. Maybe Nabu will give him up."

"You have never worn the Helmet," I argue, growing irritated by the fact that he is trying to be logical when I do not want logic, I just want him to listen. "Nabu will never let Zatara go. He almost did not let me go, despite my apparent _potential_."

"You still saved the entire planet," Roy says. "Fuck, Kalla, I need that rubber band again. If it weren't for what you did then the casualties would be a lot higher than they are. _You ruled the entire world._ I just contained mobs of angry parents and tried to get in touch with you."

"I am glad you are well, Roy," I remark.

Silence. Although he looks as though he wishes to say something.

I start quickly, "Bu-"

"I've been a jerk lately," he says.

I blink, shut my mouth, then open it again and remark, "I am not blameless. I have been…_off_ since this Team formed, and then chose me to lead. It was a surprise and I did not adapt well to it. I fear you have taken the brunt of my frustration over it. For that, I apologize."

He shrugs, "I knew you were frustrated. I just did a crap job at helping. Which, yeah, sorry."

"In regards to this mole issue," I venture cautiously, "I still do not believe that there is a mole. I have faith in my team. But," I lick my lips and continue slowly, "I recognize that my position within the Team may give me some blindspots. Spots that, if there is a mole on the Team – which I do not believe – could have been exploited during my investigation."

He keeps his mouth shut, though I can tell that he wants to say something.

"As such," I say, "if you wish to continue your investigation then go ahead-"

His eyebrows shoot up.

I add hastily, "_But_, I do not wish to hear any specifics of the investigation. If you find concrete evidence of a mole, then tell me, tell Batman, tell Black Canary and tell Red Tornado. I do not want to hear anything that is based on your dislike of the members of my team. I want facts."

"Absolutely," he nods. "Facts. You know, I can be a decent detective."

"This also does not give you free reign to be a jerk to anyone on my team. They are my friends and you have been cruel to them and I do not appreciate that at all. Your cruelty to them only makes my job harder."

He nods, "Okay."

"Understood?"

"Yeah."

I cross my arms dubiously, "Tell me."

He recites, "I can investigate but I have to do everything I can to not let my personal feelings get in the way. You only want facts, which I can spread to the supervisors of your team plus you, and I have to not be an asshole to your team. And," he side-eyes me, "apparently I need to be treated like a child."

"Apologies. I have been in Leader Mode for too long." I shut my eyes and rub the bridge of my nose, "Apologies."

"I guess leading a group of hormonally charged superpowered teenagers is pretty stressful."

"I have had a realization recently, which both lifts a load and puts another one on me," I explain, rubbing up to my eyebrows. "Also, I had a few long conversations with Matim that were…eye-opening."

"About what?"

"I would prefer not to speak of it right now," I yawn, my limbs growing heavier by the second.

"How long have you been up?"

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Six in the morning."

My eyebrows shoot up. How long was I in the shower?

"Kalla?" Roy ventures, taking one of my wrists and pulling it away from my face. "It's six a.m."

"Over a day," I say. "The exhaustion just hit me."

"Everyone knows we keep fucked-up hours and go for days without sleeping because of missions – but your mission was to effectively rule the entire planet and defeat a Lord of Chaos. Pretty sure even Batman slept after that."

"Batman may have. I doubt that Annex has."

"Yeah, but he's in charge of a country. I doubt any world leader got any sleep last night, this morning, whatever. You're in charge of a group of teenagers, all of whom are probably sleeping." He pushes me toward my bed, "Go to sleep. I'm sleeping in whatever room is across from yours."

"That's Artemis's."

He pauses at the door then glances back at me, "I can work with that."

I nod then flop onto my waterbed. I stare at the ceiling, trying to will myself to remove my uniform and get in my surface-world pyjamas.

Wait.

Oh Poseidon, he is going to go through her things.

I shoot up and across the hallway, "Roy!"

"Shit!" he shouts, throwing a book at my face.

I catch the book – _Alice in Wonderland_ – and set it on Artemis' dresser. I raise an eyebrow at him, "You cannot go through her things."

"I'm investigating."

"There are things in a teenage girl's room that she does not want anyone – much less a guy who hates her – finding," I state, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of her room.

"What the hell do you have in your room?" he asks incredulously.

"A hidden gateway to the lair of the kraken," I deadpan, releasing him in the hallway.

"You didn't go through anyone's things during your investigation did you?"

"Because I respect boundaries."

"When you're investigating someone there are no boundaries that cannot be crossed."

"Do not cross them when I am in the same building."

"Fine. I'll sleep in the TV room." He turns and begins to walk away then barks, "That was a pretty terrible investigation though if you didn't even rifle through their things!"

"_Goodnight, Roy!_" I retort.

"Morning," he points out with a smirk then walks around the corner.

I roll my eyes then head back into my bedroom for some much-needed sleep. It's the first decent sleep I have had in weeks. Finally, I know my job, I know what I need to do. It's a welcomed relief.

* * *

**A/N: **119 is done. Halleluiah.

Also, I do what I want. Because Raquel.

**R&R**


End file.
